The Monster and His Flower
by Kristen36
Summary: Cato had always been sure of himself and his abilities, which is why he volunteered to be the District 2 tribute in the first place. That is, of course, until he saw her. Katniss Everdeen had unknowingly turned his world entirely upside down
1. Chapter 1

Cato glared out the window of the speeding train, wondering why in the hell it was taking so long to get to the Capitol. He was itching to start training and to show the other tributes how strong and powerful he was. He pretty much had this game in the bag, and he couldn't wait to start intimidating his fellow tributes.

He had never been to the Capitol before, but he was sure it took less than an hour to get there. Two hours had passed already, and he was getting tired of listening to his chaperone's incessant chatter about the other contestants. If they didn't get there soon, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. Cato eyed the plates on the mahogany table, noting that they would make excellent weapons. If he threw them hard enough, he wondered, could he actually behead his escort? Cato wasn't sure what would happen to him if he killed her, but her high pitched voice was starting to drive him insane… well, more insane than before, and if he claimed insanity, then he couldn't be held responsible for his actions, right?

"Hey, Cato, come check this little wench out!"

He turned at the sound of excitement in Clove's voice, wondering what could be so interesting to have actually piqued her interest. Cato had known Clove since they were young kids at the Academy, and he knew very few things excited her besides knives and well…that was about it. Cato couldn't count how many times she had cornered him during lunch at the Academy to talk about the newest knife she worked with that morning. It made his ears bleed every time, and he had to resist the urge to slam his head onto the table as hard as he could.

Cato wouldn't exactly consider her a friend, but she was definitely a fierce ally that he knew he could count on. It also didn't hurt that she had harbored a little crush on him since they had first met. Of course, she would die before admitting it to anyone, let alone him, but she was too easy to read. Girls and their nonsense feelings were all too predictable. Cato knew he could use her to his advantage when the time came, although he would wait until the last opportunity. Not only did she have his back, but it didn't exactly sound appealing to wander the Arena by himself. No one would mess with a pack of Careers (those tributes in the Districts closest to the Capitol who trained their entire lives to participate in the Hunger Games), and he knew he could take out anyone in hand to hand combat, but there was still safety in numbers. Even he wasn't egotistical enough to believe he could become Victor of the Games without an alliance with at least District 1 and 4.

Cato plopped unceremoniously onto the plush couch in between Clove and their escort, Adara, earning a glare from both as they scooted in opposite directions to make room for his large frame.

"What's so special about her?" he sneered, watching as the little blonde girl from District 12 walked lifelessly up to the podium. He almost felt bad for her, knowing that she'd be one of the first to die. If Clove was really that excited to kill a little girl who looked half starved and about as innocent as humanely possible, then he'd be sure to kill his fellow District partner at the first chance he got. He knew he was slightly twisted in the brain, especially when he got his hands on a sword, but that was just sick.

"Keep watching, idiot," Clove responded, unmoved by his usual surly attitude.

He glared at the side of her head, but turned to face the large screen on the wall. He watched silently as an older girl pushed through the crowd of 16 year olds girls and volunteered to become tribute in place of the little 12 year old girl. Cato raised an eyebrow. He could see why Clove was so enthralled by this Reaping. Very few people from the outlying Districts ever volunteered, though it was a common occurrence where they came from in District 2, as well as in Districts 1 and 4. He and Clove had trained their whole lives for this moment, stuffed with hearty foods and taught to viciously wield a weapon before they were 7 years old. In the other Districts where food is often hard to come by, the Games are more like a death sentence than an honor.

"Isn't this exciting!" Adara giggled, grabbing onto the edge of the couch like she was watching a fictional drama program and not something that was pretty much a real life death sentence. Cato couldn't even be bothered to reply.

Focusing back on the screen, Cato continued to watch the historic moment. The blonde girl, named after some silly flower, was being pulled away from the stage by an older boy, screaming what he assumed to be her sister's name.

Turning his attention to the volunteer, he noted that dark-haired girl looked nervous, certainly, but there was something else in her eyes. Cato leaned forward, completely entranced by her. The girl, whose name he learned to be Katniss, was clearly a fighter. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she carried herself. She stood stoically and defiantly next to the District 12 escort, another Capitol clone who wore too much makeup and so many colors that it burned his eyes.

He watched as she shook hands with the male District 12 tribute, some blonde kid who looked like a kicked puppy, before the screen was turned off.

"She'll be fun to kill, won't she, Cato?" Clove remarked arrogantly, turning to see his reaction on the whole event. "Though I doubt she'll survive the initial bloodbath, most of those in District 12 are the first to go."

"Don't underestimate your competition," Adara harshly reprimanded, shocking both of her tributes. "She didn't look as weak as the tributes from that District normally do, and with that attitude, Clove, you'll get yourself killed first. Imagine the honor that would bring your family."

"Whatever," Clove grumbled, not used to being told off by anyone, let alone a Capitol snob.

Cato laughed as he watched the younger girl sulk into the couch, gaining a little bit more appreciation for their escort. Perhaps he would keep her around after all. Not that he really had much choice, but he could always indulge himself in his fantasies.

With nothing left to focus his attention on, Cato made his way back to the window to think.

Prior to the Reaping, he was completely confident that he would do anything to win. He didn't have any family left, not after they abandoned him at the Academy after his younger sister had died. They blamed him, of course, the brutal monster who had killed his own sister, Citali. It took him years to realize it wasn't his fault that she died. Cato vowed to win the Hunger Games for his sister, the only person he knew he had ever loved and who had loved him unconditionally back. She was the star of his life, even after her death, and he wanted to prove to her that he was a good big brother. One she could be proud of, wherever she was.

But now he wasn't so sure of what he wanted anymore. This Katniss girl (another flower name…her parents clearly weren't original), had tossed a thorn into his plan. He chuckled out loud at his own joke, ignoring Clove's, "What so funny?"

She stirred something inside him, creating an array of feelings he had never felt before. Katniss Everdeen, with her dark brown hair, her long braid, and her piercing gray eyes had claimed him already, and he had never even met the damned girl. Cato knew he was being overdramatic, but he didn't care. His thoughts were his and his alone, so no need to lie to himself. Katniss would be his. His ally, his friend, his lover, all of it. He knew they wouldn't have much time together; after all, they would be fighting for their lives in less than a week. He didn't know what would happen in the Arena, but he would figure it out as time went on.

Cato knew one thing, though. He always got what he wanted, and he wanted Katniss Everdeen more than anything.

* * *

A/N: After seeing the Hunger Games movie, I fell in love with Alexander Ludwig's portrayal of Cato and became inspired to write a Cato/Katniss story.

I don't see Cato as heartless as he may have come across in the books, so I'm really looking to capture that in the future (though he will still be the violent/brutal killer we also know him to be). I just see him as a very dynamic character.

Not sure when the next chapter will be up. I have an final on Tuesday but I'll try to do it as soon as possible. Also, this will most likely be all Cato's POV and more about his sister will be discussed in future chapters in case you were wondering.

Read and review, I definitely am open to suggestions!


	2. First Encounters

A/N: So, I definitely didn't expect to update this soon, but your feedback really motivated me to keep writing. Studying for my exam can wait. Oops.

I switched to writing in third person in case anyone noticed a change. I just find it easier this way.

* * *

The next time I see Katniss, I almost fall out of a moving chariot. Thank god for Clove latching on to my arm as I stumbled, giving me a reproachful look at my sudden clumsiness. I glare back, daring her to say anything, which of course she won't. She still has the gall to smirk at me as she turns away, though. Stupid brat.

The opening ceremonies are an event I always loved to watch back at the Academy. Each tribute is dressed by their stylists in costumes that are supposed to represent what their District specializes in. Our District makes weapons, so we usually have the most liberty when it comes to costume designs. District 12 tends to dress their tributes in skimpy outfits that resembled coal, and I prayed to whatever deity that exists that they decide to stick to the same routine this year. As my team prepares me for the ceremony, I fantasize about how Katniss would look in a tight black tank top and shorts with a headlamp, the outfit that their tributes have been wearing for three years in a row. I hope her stylist doesn't decide this year to be little original. Unless it involves less clothes. That would work for me.

This year, our designers dress us as Roman gladiators. I am not exactly sure who the Romans were, but they had some pretty fucking sweet outfits…and I get to carry a sword. Too bad it wasn't real metal, but I'll have my hands on one tomorrow. I can't wait to show off my skills. And now I actually have to work to impress someone, a girl, nonetheless. This is new territory for me, as many girls swarm around me on their own accord. I have a feeling that Katniss won't be like the other girls back home, and I am not exactly sure how I am going to get her to fall for me. I mean, obviously I am drop dead gorgeous, but I'm not the best when it comes to talking to people. There is no need for talking in the Academy. Besides Clove, no one in District 2 really wanted to talk to me after my sister died, anyways.

The gold outfit complements my blonde hair perfectly and makes my blue eyes look even more intense (or at least that's what my stylist says). I just know I look even better than usual, which was saying a lot considering how sexy I am on a daily basis. Regrettably, I wasn't able to convince my stylist to take off the upper body armor to show off my abs and broad, muscular arms.

"You'll have plenty of time to show off your body in the Arena, Cato," she chuckled, dancing around my arm as I tried to swat her away from my face. She kept trying to put some sort of gunk on me ("makeup" she had called it), insisting that all the men in the Capitol wear it. I told her very clearly that I was sorry she didn't get to work with Clove, but I was not to be made up into some sort of girly man to compensate for her personal dilemma.

Sometimes coming from District 2 has its disadvantages, especially tonight. Our chariot was the second one to move down the city streets, so I am unable to check out the other competition in their chariots. Turning around to stare behind me for the entire ride would probably lead many sponsors to think I was weird, and who wants to sponsor the weird, creepy kid? Naturally, I know none of the others would look better than me, but I still want to see Katniss. Resigning myself to the fact that I'd have to wait until the parade was over to see her, I set my face into my typical stoic mask, and focus on the back of the chariot in front of me. I wasn't going to demean myself and wave at the Capitol idiots like Clove and the other tributes did. I want them to eventually realize that I am better than them, and I know it. They aren't worthy of my attention, no matter how many of them sponsor me.

However, my interest is caught when they start chanting my name way half way down to the City Circle. I look up to the television screens, expecting to see my own face reflected back at me, but I am startled to see one of the District's chariots had set on fire. Panic rises inside me as I realize Katniss's costume was on fire. What the fuck had her stylist done?

Listening harder to the chants of the crowd, I realize they aren't saying my name, but hers. And it isn't in fear or despair, but in sheer, blazing excitement.

Upon closer inspection of the screens, I am able to see that her costume has been purposefully lit, and the fire is contained. She doesn't seem to be in pain, so I can only assume this is a legitimate part of her outfit. Noticing that the District 1 boy in front of me has turned around to get a glance at her, I decided I could get away with stealing a peak too. I almost lose my balance when the chariot turns a corner, though, so I decide instead to watch her on the screens above me.

By the time my chariot reaches the City Circle to listen to President Snow's speech, I am getting a headache from the blaring noise of the crowd. Even I can admit she was absolutely breathtaking, stunning, dazzling, whatever complements you want to pick, but I don't see what the huge commotion was about. I mean, I look fucking sexy too, and no one is yelling their self hoarse for me. I look up at the screen one last time as her chariot rolls to a stop, and that's when I figure out what has the Capitol fools up in a roar. She and Kicked Puppy Boy have their hands held tightly together as they wave to the crowd, standing as close together as physically fucking possible to put off a united front. How fucking charming.

I spend the entire speech fuming silently to myself, tuning out President Snow and his bullshit address about rebellion and some useless motivational garbage about odds being in our favor.

Who the fuck does this kid think he is, suddenly putting moves on my girl? Granted, she isn't mine yet, but in a few days time she will be. Nobody can say no to me. I mean, why would they even want to? I am sexy, strong, and can easily provide for her in the Arena. I will find a way for us to win together; it was all a matter of plotting and planning. I will make it work. He, on the other hand, looks like he'll die in the first day. That, of course, may be my own personal bias, but whatever.

I had watched the Reaping one more time before the ceremony, and I could tell from the way she barely spared him a glance that they didn't really know each other. And now suddenly, he's all best buddies with Katniss, _my Katniss_, and they are going to be some terrific team from District 12 who are going to take the games by storm and win it all for their loser District? Over my fucking dead body. That kid will be the first to go, I vow vehemently to myself.

Feeling a finger dig into my side, I look over to Clove who has her eyebrow raised at me.

"You still alive in there, Cato?" she hisses, as our chariots moved into the Training Center.

"Just plotting some deaths," I remark truthfully, glad this stupid ceremony is finally over. What a waste of precious training time.

"You look a little more murderous than usual, I hope you have a plan for those disgusting District 12 freaks. I mean, fire, really? I was disappointed when they didn't burn to death, especially the girl. She isn't even pretty," Clove rages as we walk towards our mentor and prep teams.

"You'll see soon, Little One," I mock, using the pet name I gave her when we first met. She hates it the most, so naturally it's my go-to when I feel like getting under her skin. Which is often. I silently smirk at Clove's obvious jealousy of Katniss, ignoring how she stomps on my foot in agitation. She hates being shown up, even more than I do.

I glance around for Katniss, ignoring how our team is assuring Clove that we are still the best looking tributes and that we will still have plenty of sponsors. It's moments like these that I remember just how young my fellow tribute is. She's like a petty thirteen year-old that needs to be consoled by her mother when a boy she likes asks another girl out. It's pathetic, and if she doesn't change her attitude soon, then her irrelevant problems are going to get her killed.

I glare fiercely at Puppy Boy, who is still holding Katniss's hand as they talk with their mentor and prep teams. He must feel my eyes boring into his skull, looking up from his conversation. He has the common sense to look scared at least, I think smugly, as I subtly puff out my chest and flex my biceps to intimidate him further.

Seeing the change in her partner, Katniss finally turns her eyes towards me, and I feel like my heart is about to stop. She is even more beautiful in person, and I am glad the fire on her costume was put out. I still can't shake the feeling that she almost died right in front of my eyes before the Games even started. Pretty sure I would have been the shittiest protector in history if that had happened.

I mentally kick myself as I realize I am staring dumbly at her. I have been training for years to fight off people who want to kill me, and I am suddenly scared of a 16 year old girl? Get your shit together, Cato, I reprimand myself, don't be a pussy.

I give her one of my cockiest smiles, the one that wins over all the girls back home and flex a little harder. She blinks, and then actually laughs at me.

What the flying fuck just happened? She is supposed to be falling all over herself to come and talk to me like the other girls do. And they do that when I don't even try. She is NOT supposed to be laughing as she turns back to face her team and then walk away to the elevator.

I watch, seething, as she giggles with About-To-Be-Dead-Puppy Boy as they wait for the elevator to come down. And then she leans over and kisses his cheek, and he's blushing and stammering out some shit, and I see red. Pure, blood red. I don't care if it's against the rules to lay your hands on another tribute before the games start. Rules are meant to be broken, and this kid is going to fucking die.

In seconds, I'm across the room and have him slammed against the wall.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing 12?" I roar, pushing harder on his throat.

I ignore the commotion around me, our Capitol escorts shouting random shit about rules and manners. Clove yelling at me to drop the kid before I get my ass kicked out of the games and sent home, a failure like my parents already think I am. The Career tributes from District 1 cheering me on, telling me to end his pathetic life. Katniss telling me to drop him before I get hurt. I laugh to myself. I like her attitude.

I can see the life leaving his eyes as I press even harder, the blood coursing through my veins. This is what I was born to do. This is what I am good at and the only thing I know how to do. I am a killer. Brutal, monstrous, Cato, getting his first kill before the Games even start. How fitting.

Before I can finish my task, the Peacekeepers swarm around us and pull me off him.

"Calm down, son," one barks at me.

"Do you want to get sent home, 2?" the other one leers, trying to intimidate me into submission. Apparently, he has a death wish, too. I growl at him, struggling to break free from their grip.

"Cato, STOP!" a voice snarls over all the noise.

I stop struggling as I turn towards my mentor, a fierce woman who I haven't seen much of since the Reaping.

Enobaria is not someone to mess with. In her own Games, she had used her teeth to rip out a tribute's throat. Despite the grossness of her actions (who knew what their blood was infested with?) I still admire her ferocity. Since winning, the Capitol allowed her to sharpen her teeth into fangs with gold points at the end. They are fucking awesome. Scary, but awesome.

Enobaria pushes her way into the elevator, dragging me behind her, and I decide to steal a glance at Katniss before I am swept to my apartment for the night. She's sitting next to Almost-Dead Puppy, running her hands through his hair as he tries to regain his breath. Just as the door is about to close, she meets my glance and gives me one of the fiercest glares I have ever seen, especially for a seemingly peaceful girl. Taken aback by the fiery hatred I see in her eyes, I bang my head on the wall of the elevator as the doors shut, frustrated by how our first encounter went.

I guess trying to kill her fellow District 12 tribute before Training has even started isn't the way to her heart. I guess I'll have to come up with a better plan that does not involve murder. I guess I am fucking screwed.

"Damnit," I groan, as I stumble into my apartment.

My training has not prepared me for this.

* * *

A/N: Poor Cato, he is just so socially awkward. I have a hard time believing his next plan will go any better, but who knows? :)

Anyways, keep reviewing! I love your feedback and comments. Does anyone know any good songs that remind them of Cato or Cato/Katniss? I would love to incorporate some song lyrics in the beginning or end of each chapter.


	3. The Prince and His Pauper

Our apartment is extravagant, as I expected it to be. I don't really get much of a chance to look around as Enobaria roughly shoves me onto the nearest couch.

"What the hell was that, Cato?" she demands, her gold teeth glinting dangerously in the light. I wonder if she got mad enough at me, would she rip my throat out, too? I decide I don't want to find out, so I went with the first answer that came to mind. I don't think she would really appreciate the truth in this situation.

"He looked at me funny," I reply haughtily, staring directly into her emerald green eyes. "I had to show him his place. Just because his stylist has some competency, it doesn't make him on par with the rest of us."

"Keep your emotions in check, you useless boy, before you lose all your sponsors. If they think you're nothing but brawn with no brains to go with it, they'll have bets on you to die first. Though, I suppose that won't be far from the truth," my mentor fumes, chucking a nearby pillow at my head that I swiftly dodge.

"Boys are so barbaric," Clove agrees, a small smile tugging at her lips as our mentor storms out of the room. She loves watching me get yelled at, despite the fact that she is probably the most disappointed that I didn't kill the loser. But of course, precious little Clove has to be the favorite over big, bad, Cato.

Whatever, I don't need any of them.

"Well, what's done is done. Just don't let it happen again, Cato, darling."

I cringe at Adara's pet name, smacking Clove upside the head as her wicked grin widens.

"Ow, Cato, what the fuck!" Clove screeches as she grabs a large pillow and tries to smother me with it.

Ripping the pillow out of her grasp, I wrap my hands around her tiny wrists and use my legs to lift her into the air, hoisting her up as high as I can to make her body parallel with my own.

"Hey, Clovey, you like bets. Wanna bet on how far I can throw you across the room?"

"PUT ME DOWN, CATO, OR I SWEAR I'LL…"

"What are you gonna do, Little One?" I scoff, adjusting my feet so she doesn't fall on me. Clove was small, but I didn't want to risk her falling knee first onto my groin. "Make faces at me until I die laughing? You don't really need to try very hard to do that, _darling_, considering how your face is already deformed."

"Maybe once the Games start," I continue, "I'll toss you like a cannonball across the Arena, and you can stab someone with one of your knives. That'd be pretty epic and original, we would be sure to get additional sponsors."

Not hearing a response, I look up and see her giving me one of her most terrifying scowls, the one that promises I will not like whatever revenge she concocts in her twisted little mind.

Between the look on her face and the image in my mind of me throwing her like a human spear at another tribute (preferably Puppy Boy), my body is overcome with laughter, and I accidently drop her onto the floor.

The look on her face is murderous, but fortunately, Enobaria decides now would be a good time to return back to her tributes. Not that I am scared of Clove, of course, but she definitely does not fight fair. I cross my legs as nonchalantly as I can, in order to protect my most prized possession in case of a surprise attack.

"Glad to see you didn't kill each other while I was gone," she remarks, giving me a pointed look. I stare back, unfazed.

"He's going to sleep with one eye open tonight," Clove grumbles, returning to her seat on the couch as far away from me as physically possible.

"Which is exactly why neither of you will be alone for your entire stay here," Enobaria snarls, glaring at both of us as she moves her gaze to a spot behind our couch.

My mentor sure was moody today. I wonder if I'd be murdered if I asked her if she was on her period. God girls are gross.

Turning around, I finally notice two people who have probably been standing there the whole time. They must be Avox, I think, remembering what I learned about them in our History of Panem class. An Avox was a person who had committed a crime, and as punishment, the Capitol cuts their tongue cut out and forces them into servitude. The idea sends shivers down my spine. I cannot imagine living the rest of my life without the ability to talk. I didn't want to even think about how deprived our world would be without my ability to speak. The poor, helpless masses would be lost.

The first Avox, and hardest to miss, is a large red haired boy who rivals me in size. I can see his muscles rippling under his white tunic, and I figure I will get stuck with him since he is a male and the other Avox is a girl. I can't wait to challenge him to a wrestling match. He looks like a decent opponent, more so than any of the other tributes, besides perhaps the District 11 boy.

The girl, however, catches my attention for a different reason besides her size. For a fleeting moment, I am filled with hope that my sister hasn't died and was just taken captive by the Capitol. The Avox girl has long black hair that flows down her back, stopping at her waist. Her light green eyes hold a mischievous glint, and I am struck speechless by just how much she looks like Citali. I shake my head, knowing this is not possible. I and the rest of Panem had watched hopelessly a few years ago as Citali was murdered on national TV.

"I do NOT need a babysitter, Enobaria!" Clove whines loudly, drawing my focus back to the matter at hand. "Cato is the one who can't control himself, why should I suffer, too?"

I glance behind us again to see how the Avox have reacted to Clove's complaints. It looks as if they have not even moved, but the boy's jaw looks a little tenser. However, out of the corner of my eye as I turn back around, the girl discreetly sticks her tongue out at Clove's back. An Avox with a tongue? That was unheard of, as far as I knew. Very interesting, I think, as I file that little note into my mind.

"Relax, sweetie," Enobaria purrs, moving to sit on the arm rest of the couch next to Clove. "It's also for your protection. Now you can sleep peacefully and not have to worry that one of the other tributes are going to sneak into the apartment and kill you as revenge for Cato's _very public_ emotional breakdown. We know how barbaric the outlying districts can be."

Clove lets out a very undignified snort at our mentor's statement and continues to bitch about how there was no way a 10 year old could protect her.

I make an impulsive decision at that moment as I see the Avox girl opening her mouth to retort. Her partner discreetly gives her a little shove, followed by a warning look to keep her comments to herself.

"I'll take the girl, then. Clove, you can have the boy if you are so worried about your own safety."

Enobaria raises one of her delicately drawn eyebrows at me.

"Isn't she a little young for you, Cato?"

I curl my lip at her, showing my obvious disgust at her insinuation.

"I want to be pampered before the Games start, as I rightfully deserve. I'm sure a girl knows more about that kind of stuff than a guy."

"Traditionally, male tributes are paired with male Avox and…" Adara, who has been mostly silent, begins.

"Screw tradition," Clove butts in, "She is of no use to me, so Cato can have her. In fact, he can have them both. Happy fucking birthday, Cato."

Without waiting for a response, Clove storms towards her quarters with the male Avox reluctantly following. I feel kind of bad for the kid, having to deal with Clove and her moodiness. But, whatever, not my problem.

I sneer at Enobaria, before getting up, rejoicing in her vicious glare. She may favor Clove, but I am not one to mess with.

'Cato wins again', I mentally cheer, nodding at the dark haired Avox as I make my way to my bedroom. I hear her following me, and I wait until she enters my room before I close the door behind us.

Making my way to the large, plush bed, I plop down and face the girl.

"Why do you still have a tongue?" I demand, ignoring the typical rules in dealing with Avox. You are only supposed to give them orders. They are not there for small talk, since obviously, most cannot even talk back.

I reason that since she is not a typical Avox, typical rules will not apply to her. Besides, I am not one for following orders anyway. They are beneath me.

I chuckle as the previously defiant girl blushes and looks frantically around her. I briefly wonder if she is trying to figure out how to escape, but then I realize she is probably worried we will be overheard.

"Come here," I order, putting her more at ease as since she is used to being ordered around. I scoot up to the headboard, giving her space to sit on the edge of the bed. I vaguely notice how it's nice to lay in a bed that fits my entire frame, with plenty of room left over. Too bad it's only for a week.

"Why do you have a tongue?" I ask again, this time more gently.

"My father sent me here as punishment," she whispers, twirling a lock of hair nervously around her finger.

I raise an eyebrow. I've never heard of a parent giving their child to the Capitol willingly, unless it was to participate in the Games. Though, even then they really didn't have much of a choice so I wasn't sure if that counted.

"We're from District 3," she continues, as she moves closer to me in an attempt to speak as quietly as possible. "They really don't care as much about the Games there as they do in Districts 1 and 2, but I couldn't wait to be old enough to volunteer. I trained as hard as I could when I wasn't in school, and one day I challenged an older girl to a fight because she kept teasing one of my friends. She knew I had been training for the games whenever I could, but she wouldn't turn down a challenge from a girl half her size. Imagine what her friends would say, ya know? We agreed to fight after school, but she jumped me at lunch…"

The girl trails off, seemingly embarrassed, but I can see the pride in her eyes. I have a feeling the other girl in the fight didn't get off as easily as she had anticipated.

"What'd you do?" I inquire, curious as to what this little girl could have done to end up kicked out of her own District by her parents.

"I stabbed her, obviously!" she blurts, staring at the wall with a small smile on her face, most likely lost in the memory of the event.

"Oh?" I reply, not completely sure I believe her.

"I keep a knife in my boot at all times," she huffs, "Like Johanna Mason did in her Games. Just because I'm small doesn't mean I'm helpless, ya know."

Johanna Mason was a District 7 tribute a few years back who pretended to be a weakling so the other tributes left her alone. As the Games were coming to an end, she proved to be a sly and vicious killer, most proficient with an ax. However, she got her last kill with a knife that she had stolen from a dead Career tribute and had hidden in her boot for almost the entire week the Games went on.

"Did she die?" I ask, wondering if this little girl had already killed more people than I had.

"Sadly, no," she sighs, "Someone pulled me off her before I could finish. But my dad made a deal with the Capitol that I would serve them until I was 18, so I would never be able to participate in the Games. President Snow let me keep my tongue because he liked my attitude."

I nod, not overly surprised. She wasn't really a threat to the Capitol, just a little girl who wanted to bring glory to her District. I could respect that, but I can't help chuckling at how Clove would have loved this girl. They might as well have been twins, though the Avox seemed more tolerable than my spoiled counterpart.

"So…" she begins, staring at me intently. "What's the deal with you and the District 12 kid?"

"I don't know what you mean," I contend, not sure how much I could trust this girl just yet.

"Cato, oh my gosh, the other Avox have never been so scandalized!" she laughs gleefully, startling me in the change in her demeanor.

I watch silently as she gets off the bed to stand in front of one of the many mirrors. "Some say you like her, the District 12 girl, I mean, not the weirdo from your District. Others think you're just a violent murderer who didn't like being outshone by a baker's son from the loser District. I heard someone else say they think you're gay and were pissed because the boy didn't return your affections. There hasn't been this much excitement since many of them got stuck here."

She turns away from her reflection to stare back at me with her wide, green eyes.

"And what do you think?" I prompt, genuinely interested in this girl's opinion, though I know she'll tell me without me asking. Girls can never keep their thoughts to themselves in my extensive experience.

"Lavinia and I think you like the girl, yep we sure do!" she smiles radiantly, jumping up and down in excitement. "It's really so romantic, Cato! The brutal, monstrous boy from District 2 and the calm, mysterious girl from District 12 who took the place in the Games for her little sister. It's better than any of those romance novels my sister used to make me read."

I just stare at her, stunned.

My God, when had my love life (or lack thereof) become the highlight of teenage girls' gossip?

"What do you Avox do, write each other letters and pass them off as you see each other?" I question, in an attempt to buy myself some extra time in figuring out my next move.

"No, stupid," she replies, rolling her eyes in feigned annoyance. "We have these pager things where we can type messages to one another as a group or just to one other person. The Capitol can monitor all messages of course, but I think they realized we needed a way to entertain ourselves that wouldn't cause them any trouble…plus I'm sure they also hoped someone would be stupid enough to talk about something illegal, like some crime they witnessed or talks of rebellion."

I nod, distracted by my own thoughts. There was an opportunity here, I could sense it, but I just can't seem to figure out what exactly it is.

"Just don't tell anyone, we're supposed to keep them on the down low. Are you going to answer my question now?"

"You and that other girl got it pretty spot on, I'd say." I decide to go with honesty. Little girls can always sense a lie, especially when it came from a guy. Citali was a prime example of that fact. I could never get away with anything, even trying to pretend that I didn't know what she got for her birthday present. It was like she had a sixth sense when someone was trying to be coy with her.

She whoops in joy and then scampers back onto my bed. Crossing her legs at the end of the bed, I can tell I have her undivided attention.

"So! What's the plan of action, Cato, darling?" She mimics Adara's voice so perfectly, I need to take a second to gather my bearings before I can answer her question.

"Uh, yeah, that's a good question, Little One," I stammer, opting for Clove's usual nickname since I don't actually know the name of the little girl in front of me.

"Well, obviously, Cato, since I am clearly more intelligent, I have a few ideas for you," she giggles, probably anxious to start talking plans with her little Avox buddies. Ugh, when I thought of myself becoming a famous celebrity, it was not in the world of Capitol servants.

"First and foremost, do not call me a name that you use with your little witch of a partner. Secondly, the name is Leyla, but don't call me by my first name too often outside of this room. It'll make everyone suspicious, since I am _technically_ not supposed to interact with you in this sort of way."

I nod my head in understanding and anxiously wait for my new partner in crime to continue. I feel absolutely, totally, and irrefutably pathetic for taking girl advice from a pre-teen, but I struck out once on my own, so I can't afford to mess up again. I need all the help I can get, and I'm betting she won't say anything to anyone else. Hopefully.

She stares at me expectantly, and I have no idea what she's waiting for.

"Continue, brat," I encourage, thinking maybe she isn't used to be treated so nicely. Or she lost her train of thought. I don't even pretend to know what goes on in their heads, because girls are fucking weird. And confusing.

She blinks at me. And then she blinks again. And then she bursts out into uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh my god, you have no idea how to get her to like you, do you?" Leyla wheezes, giving me a sympathetic pat on my knee. "You truly do need my help…"

I scowl darkly at her, waiting for her to compose herself once more. She doesn't even flinch.

Two girls have laughed at me in the past 3 hours. I can't even intimidate a lowly Capitol servant. I already failed once at killing the stupid District 12 boy. I still have no idea how to win Katniss's affections. My life is seriously fucking pathetic at this point.

I vaguely wonder if I should just head back home and tell them I had a change of heart. The stupid 13 year old who was Reaped can come and spend a week with Clove before getting himself killed Day 1 in the Arena. He seemed kind of pissed when I took his spot, so I'm sure he'll be okay with the trade.

"Don't worry, Cato-Kitten, Leyla is here to save the day. How do you feel about a little rendezvous on the roof with your precious, Katniss?"

* * *

**A/N: Read and Review! All your support has made me even more inspired to write (and to write often). Thank you for all your comments/suggestions/and just overall love, you guys are the best!**

**How do you like Cato's partner in crime so far? **


	4. Good To You

_And I do want you to know _

_I hold you up above everyone._

_And I do want you to know _

_I think you'd be good to me_

_And I'd be so good to you._

_I would._

I can see the determination in Leyla's eyes…this meeting was going to happen. And I think that's what scares me the most.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I just pissed her off by trying to take down her little boy-toy. I don't think she wants to see me anytime soon, maybe we should just wait until tomorrow's training where I can show of my bad ass skills…"

"Cato, dearest, I really don't think she cares that you can throw a spear at a dummy from however many yards away. Yes, it's grand and all that you can protect her in the Arena and kill everyone within a 5 mile radius, but she needs to see a softer side of you as well-"

"I'm not a pussy, Leyla," I quickly interject, not liking where this was going. I suppose I have a softer side, but it was buried way deep down below, and the only one who got to see it was my sister. And Clove, that one time. But my sister is dead, and Clove will be too in a week.

"Besides, you're cutting my talents short. I'd definitely say I could kill everyone within a TEN mile radius."

Leyla, who had previously been sitting at the foot of my bed, climbs onto my outstretched legs, perching herself precariously on my knees. Thank god she's so small and light or else this could have been really uncomfortable.

"Look, if you want to take the easy way out to get the girl, then you might as well go for that District 1 tramp. My sources tell me that she was practically eye raping you when you were _trying_ to jump the District 12 guy."

I wonder how I didn't notice this, though I suppose I was too busy trying to watch the light dim from So-Close-To-Dead-Puppy's Eyes. Girls in District 2 always stared at me from afar (because I'm so damn good looking and talented, with a smashing personality to go with it), and there were a few who were brave enough to try and get into my "inner circle." Key word being "try." My Baby Clovey had turned out to be quite the bodyguard, never having the patience to put up with anyone who wasn't 250% dedicated to their training, so I never really had to interact with others (especially girls). No one met Clove's standards.

I just wasn't into the whole "social" aspect of the Academy. I am strong and powerful enough to not need a posse to watch my back for me. No one would dare touch me outside of an actual training match, and if they did, Clove would have joyfully decimated them in any type of battle. I realize at this moment how much I am going to miss her constant company.

Oh well, you win some, ya lose some.

"I don't know what to do, Leyla, girls always liked me back home but all I did was kick ass and take names," I admit, being as humble as I could. "And it's not like I actually had to talk to any of them."

"Just be yourself, Cato, just ya know…significantly less violent. You are way more attractive than that Peeta kid, at least. And on that note, remember there's a difference between confident and cocky!"

"This is true," I agree, ignoring her comment on cockiness. I am nothing but modest.

"Let me change out of this outfit, I don't want to intimidate her with my Roman-God hotness. How much time do I have?"

She rolls her eyes at me and lets out a small sigh.

"You have 20 minutes to be ready and on the roof. I'll show you how to get there, obviously, but I do have to stay with you…or else they'll kill me if they find out you ditched me. So ya, don't ditch me. And make sure you take a shower while you're in there, you smell like failure.

I agree. The District 12 boy should not be alive right now.

When I emerge from the bathroom, Leyla isn't there so I drop my towel and head towards the immense dresser to choose an outfit. I opt for a tight green t-shirt, fitted black athletic pants, and a simple black jacket to go over it incase it is cold outside.

I hear a light tap on the door and slowly Leyla cracks the door open, walking in once she sees I'm dressed. I'm relieved it isn't Clove, because I really don't want to deal with her shit right now. I'm curious to know if her Avox is still alive.

"How do I look?" I question, already knowing I look stunning. I might not be super "fashionable" like the Capitol tools who have nothing else better to do, but I know how to dress to make my body look even more amazing than it already is. And that takes skill, let me tell you.

She sighs. "It'll do, I suppose. We'll work on your choice of attire later. Follow me and don't fuck up, or I'll throw you off the roof to save yourself the shame of seeing her tomorrow at training."

I'm mildly shocked at her choice of words. Even Clove didn't start cussing until she was fourteen…which was like last year. I'm still not used to the vast insults in her arsenal, some containing words I've never even heard before. I may not know what they mean, but I know for sure that they are not nice words a "lady" should be using.

I mentally snort at the idea of Clove being considered a lady.

I take the risk and ask Leyla how old she is. Girls are weirdly sensitive about age. Citali once yelled at some kid in the market for 15 minutes because he said she looked like a "silly little nine year old." She had just turned 10 the day before.

"How old do you think I am, Cato?" she inquires, turning to face me after adjusting her ponytail in the mirror.

My senses are suddenly flaring. I know this trap.

I guess 14 since most girls always want to be older than they really are.

"Really, you think so? Finally, someone who doesn't think I look 10!"

Thank fucking god I had a sister. And Clove, who still lies about her age to strangers.

"I'm 13," she chirps, brushing invisible dust (at least to me) off my pants. "Now, let's go win a Katniss for you."

"Why are you helping me?" I ask once we have successfully made it to the elevator without attracting anyone's attention.

Leyla looks me up in down, carefully weighing her answer.

"Seriously, Cato, this is like the most exciting event that has happened to me since I got stuck in this hell hole…and I'm not even really involved. I have a vested interest in this whole situation, now. It reminds me that there's hope in this world and that when I'm 18 and out of here, maybe I can find a strong, caring guy like you to love me unconditionally."

I toss one of my arms over his shoulder, giving her a little squeeze.

"Plus you're pitifully helpless, and it makes me sad to see such a handsome boy be so socially inept," she adds, giggling as I poke her roughly in the side. Stupid brat.

I'm not normally one to be shy, but then again, I'm not normally one to actually pursue a girl. Or give a damn if she likes me. Or to actually think about a girl in any way that wasn't about how crazy she is and how lucky I am to be born with a penis.

As we get closer to the roof, I feel the nerves start to rise. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

_Alright Cato, let's go. Game time, you got this dude. You are sexy, strong, smart, a total bad ass, and any girl will easily fall for you if you put the right moves on. It's as simple as that. No one can say no to you._

My mental pep talk boosts my confidence as the elevator dings, signaling our arrival. I wanted to take the stairs, but Leyla insisted that I needed to save my strength for tomorrow's training. I'm pretty sure she's just lazy.

Katniss is there already, sitting on a bench overlooking the small rooftop garden. She doesn't hear me as I walk silently towards her. Leyla remains by the elevator door in the darkness, but I know her sharp eyes are watching us.

I need to think of something smooth to say. Something that says, "I am gorgeous and I know it, but hey, so are you so let's be friends."

"Um, hi."

Close enough.

She jumps slightly at my voice, but then turns quickly to face me.

"Come to try and kill me, too, 2?" she asks, glaring at me suspiciously.

I mentally yell at Leyla for making me do this.

"No, Katniss I would never do that to you. I'm sorry about Pup- I mean Peeta. I lost my temper and took it out on him, but it won't happen again," I assure her, cringing mentally. I hate apologizing.

It probably would happen again, tomorrow most likely, but I wouldn't tell her that.

"You should apologize to him, not me," she contends, turning away from me to face the flowers again.

I'd rather die than apologize to him. But if that's what it takes to win her trust, then…maybe. Probably not... God no, is she serious? Apologizing to that piece of scum is so beneath me. Girls are cruel.

I know what her actions translate to, though. Conversation over.

I turn back around to Leyla who shakes her head and motions for me to move closer to Katniss.

I pray Katniss doesn't carry a knife in her boo too, or I'm a goner.

"Is there something else you need, 2?" she asks harshly, as I sit on the edge of the bench next to her, but far enough away so I don't freak her out. She tenses, anyways. Ugh. Normally I love when people are scared of me, but she isn't like the others.

"Can't a guy just enjoy some fresh air with a beautiful girl?"

Ha, that was smooth. I am getting the hang of this "flirting" business.

She turns towards me and cocks an eyebrow.

"What are you playing at, 2?" she questions, staring me down. An excellent intimidation technique, I note. She's good. Too good…

I try to keep my calm façade up, but on the inside I want to curl up into a ball on my plush bed while listening to Clove describe how she's going to brutally torture Bread Boy in the Arena. The thought and the rather graphic images that follow instantly lift my spirits.

Leyla did not prepare me for this question…or any questions really. What a shitty mentor.

I casually glance towards the elevator doors, but I can't see her from this far. I decide I should take the risk and ask for her alliance. But before I can get the words out, she begins talking again.

"Is is true you have to have a babysitter because your mentor is afraid you're going to try and kill someone else before the Games start?

I automatically feel the heat rise in my face, and it heightens as I see the judgment in her eyes. Awesome, she sees me as a misbehaving child.

"I mean, if you look at it that way than I suppose so…but I look at is as more of a roommate who serves me unquestionably."

That sounds a little more badass I guess, though I hope Leyla didn't overhear. I might have to sleep with one eye open tonight to fight off multiple knife-loving intruders.

"You're disgusting."

Hm, apparently she doesn't appreciate my badassness. I need to think of a new tactic, and quick.

"Do you want to meet her? She's cute."

"Now you're really gross, 2. Please don't tell me you're perving on the poor Avox who was forced to serve a monster."

Ah, now she thinks I'm a monster. Awesome. This meeting is just going so fucking swell.

Before I can mentally berate myself any further, Leyla appears from the shadows.

"Hey there, little one," Katniss coos, her manner instantly changing when she sees my Avox. "You're 2's babysitter?"

Leyla nods, her mouth shut tightly. Considering how talkative she is, I know this is a hard task for her.

"I'm Katniss." She sticks her hand out and Leyla shakes back, giving her a small curtsey to go along with it. Suck up.

"Has he been treating you well?" Another nod.

Ha, take that Katniss. My Avox loves me.

Katniss turns towards me, her eyes a little softer than before. "How'd the monstrous District 2 boy end up with a little girl protecting him?" I can see her trying not to smile.

"I'm _thirteen_ okay, I am not little!"

Leyla gasps at her own outburst, covering her mouth with her hands. I can see her trying to fight off the tears as she looks around, making sure no one else is up here with us. At this moment I realize how important it is for her to keep quiet, but I'm confused. She talked freely in my room, but out here she'd unable to speak?

"Hey, it's okay munchkin," I murmur softly, pulling her into my lap. She immediately buries her head into my chest, and I can feel her shaking, but fortunately she's not crying. Crying kinda freaks me out, and I don't really know how to handle it, even when Citali was alive. It just makes me feel so uncomfortable, especially if I can't fix the problem. "No one else is here, I got you."

I can feel her nod into my chest.

"And you know if someone got mad at you, big bad Cato would scare them off, right?"

She giggles, and I hear her mumble something in response.

"What'd you say, squirt?"

"I said," she drawls, looking up at me with a serious expression, "Thresh is _way_ scarier."

I gasp in mock horror.

"I resent that, Leyla! I am the most terrifying person that has ever walked this planet! Dinosaurs cower in fear when I walk by."

"Because your face is so hideous!" Leyla snickers.

"She's got a point there…Cato," Katniss agrees, giving me a small smile as I turn to look at her.

I pretend to look hurt and wipe a fake tear from my eyes.

"You ladies are harsh today," I sniffle, puffing my lips out like the tearful girls on TV always do (mostly so she can notice how full and perfectly kissable my lips are).

"Two against one, dollface. Face it, you're not the best looking flower in the garden," Leyla smirks, giving Katniss a triumphant high five.

A loud honking noise sounds from somewhere down below, and Katniss turns her attention towards the sound.

Leyla discreetly pinches my leg, and I have to catch myself to keep from jumping. I look down at her, and I can tell she expects something from me.

I quickly go over her last words in my head.

Aha, an opportunity.

"Well, in all fairness, how can I be the most attractive when Katniss is here? There's no competition."

God, I am smooth today.

Katniss is facing us again, her mouth slightly open in surprise.

Ha, left her speechless. I need to write a book on flirting.

"Cato, I'm tired," Leyla yawns, preventing Katniss from replying.

Although I am curious about this tactic, I know not to ask about it just yet as Leyla stands up.

"Alright, princess." I stand up too, stretching my arms over my head as I stretch my back out. I see Katniss out of the corner of my eye checking out my body. I mentally smirk to myself. I am so fucking perfect, even she can't resist.

"Bye, Katniss, it was nice meeting you." Leyla chirps, giving the older girl a tight hug.

I can't help but be jealous. She would probably kick me in the nuts if I tried to hug her right now.

"Sweet dreams, Leyla," she smiles, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Leyla's ear. "Goodnight 2," she nods at me, the smile still on her lips.

"I know my dreams will be sweet, tonight," I quip, giving her a wink before turning towards the elevator.

"Stop being a creep," Leyla warns, as we ride the elevator back to my apartment.

"Whatever, she wants me." I can't keep the grin off my face.

She smiled at me. Katniss fucking Everdeen smiled directly at me.

I walk with Leyla into my room, my spirits as high as ever.

_"And where have you been?" _

Fuck.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this took so long, so much school work right before finals week. Ugh. Next chapter should be posted before the end of the weekend, but your reviews do encourage me to write faster!

Next chapter: Who is in Cato's room? How will Katniss act tomorrow at Training? What other schemes does Leyla have planned?

Song: Mariana's Trench "Good To You"


	5. Memories

I recognize the voice automatically, though I can't locate where it's coming from.

Leyla taps my arm and points upwards, towards the direction of my tall dresser.

"And I repeat, Cato, where have you been?" she purrs, face set in a sneer.

It's a weird feeling to have to look up to talk to her.

Clove absolutely hates when she wants something and the person isn't there to give it to her. We all revolve around her, at least in her mind.

"Where's your Avox?" I ask, dodging the question. I'm not sure just how much I want to tell my ally. On one hand, she could keep my secret and possibly assist me in my endeavors. On the other, she could sell me out to Enobaria to win the woman's favor.

Without answering, Clove begins to wiggle forward to jump off the dresser and onto the floor. Before I can stop myself, I stride across the room and catch her before she can hit the floor. I adjust her in my arms so that I am carrying her like those husbands do to their brides on TV. She hates being carried like this, so I try to do it as often as possible. The bruises and cuts I receive afterwards have yet to deter me.

"What the hell, Cato? It's not that far of a jump, I would have been fine," she grumbles, struggling against the captive binds of my arms.

She is just so light, she doesn't really have a chance to break free. Silly Clove would need to be smarter than this in the Arena if she was ever captured… though I don't know why anyone would want to "steal" her. She wouldn't make a very good prisoner, and most people would probably cut their ears off after an hour with her. She made "annoying" into an art form.

"I wouldn't want my wittle Clovey to hurt her baby ankles, now would I?" I babble, using the baby voice my parents used to use when my sister was just born.

As I talk, I use my fingers closest to her shoulders and squeeze them under her arm in order to tickle her armpit. She immediately starts squealing, begging me to stop and put her down, while laughter rakes her body.

Before I can even begin to feel triumphant in rendering Clove helpless, I feel a sudden sharp pain on my face. Without thinking, I bring my hands up to my wound and wince when I hear Clove hit the floor. Two times tonight I've dropped her…I probably won't survive for training tomorrow.

I wonder if Katniss would be disappointed. Or glad that the primary enemy for her precious Puppy was dead.

I look down, expecting to see a murderous expression marring Clove's usually decent looking face. Instead, I see what can only be described as the picture of innocence.

"Aw, Cato-kins, I'm sorry about your face. You poor thing, that must hurt _so_ bad," she coos, patting my foot from her position still on the floor.

By some miracle, I resist the urge to punt her across the room. And who said I didn't have self control? Pshh…

With that thought, I quickly realize that she, in fact, had just kicked me in the face. It's clear that she did it on purpose, as there is no way her foot could have connected with my face without some serious bending and maneuvering. I hate flexible people.

In seconds, I've scooped Clove up and tossed her onto the bed. She scrambles to the headboard and then turns to face me, crouched on all fours preparing for one of our wrestling matches. Clove pulls her teeth back, letting out a small hiss. I smile at how catlike she can be, sharp claws and everything. She tried to adopt one at the Academy… it didn't go so well. I'm still surprised that the girl who ratted her out is still alive.

I'm suddenly struck by how much I'm going to miss Clove. As Victor, sure I'll be one of the richest people in District 2, but I won't have my best friend making snide comments next to me to make all the social interaction bearable. Katniss will likely be dead, and there's no other girl who has even come close to meeting my standards.

Clove, noticing my distractedness, attacks first, wrapping her arms around my middle and pushing me over.

"Pinned ya," she smirks triumphantly.

"Oh, really?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. Before she can even blink, I flip her over so that she's sandwiched between me and the bed.

"Damn Cato, you've gotten fat lately," she laughs, not even bothering to struggle against my hold. I always win these matches, except that one time she kneed me... I cringe at the memory.

I continue to stare at her, curiously. When did I become such a softie for my little brat?

"Cato?" she asks, clearly unsettled by my quietness.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" I question, ignoring her surprised expression.

She snorts, "How could I forget? It was our first day at the Academy and someone already tried to beat my ass."

I hear the door open and then close, and I briefly register that Leyla has left.

I lift myself off Clove and pull her into my lap, like I used to when she needed to be soothed (usually after someone sent her into a rage. She was never much of a crier.)

Before I can stop myself, I get lost in the memories.

* * *

I remember the first time I saw her.

_I had left my dorm to take a walk around the grounds. Orientation had been beyond boring, and I needed to stretch my legs and burn off some of my restless energy. I headed towards the gardens, an area I had seen during the tour that instantly reminded me of home. My little sister loved to tend to the gardens with my mom, and our house had one of the nicest gardens in the entire district._

_I heard a commotion behind one of the greenhouses, and I decided to check it out. Sneaking quietly towards the edge of the building, I poked my head around the wall to see what was going on._

_It was hard to make out what was happening, but I instantly recognized the fraternal twins from my grade standing ten feet away from me, leering at their prey. One had sandy brown hair and was taller than his brother, who had darker brown hair and was also slightly fatter._

_I had spent all day with them, and they were two people I automatically disliked due to their incessant need to make comments about everything, like we fucking cared about their useless opinions. They were my first targets to take out during training, and I couldn't wait to punch them out at the first chance I got._

_One of the brothers moved a little to the side, and I was finally able to see who their victim was._

_I couldn't help but be sickened by who they chose._

_She was so little, probably the smallest student currently at the Academy. I had heard rumors about her, Clove, I think they said her name was. The girls had their orientation separate from us, so I hadn't seen many of my female peers just yet, but everyone was talking about her._

_She was one of the youngest students the Academy had ever let in, three years younger than me at age 10. No one was usually allowed to start training before age 10, which was around the time puberty started in our District, so we were all starting to grow and mature. Well…most of us. I wasn't sure what was wrong with these idiots. Who picked on a seven year old?_

_Before heading to the Academy, our parents are supposed to make sure we are well fed, fit, and raised to understand the importance of the Games to our District. There was nothing more important to District 2 than bringing honor to the District by winning, and those who did so were instant celebrities. Those who shamed the District were killed immediately. Our trainers would teach us the techniques and skills we needed to win, but our parents were there to teach us the mindsets needed to survive the Academy and the Arena._

_I watched as Clove stared at them defiantly. I could see the challenge in her eyes even from this distance, daring them to attack her. I liked her attitude, but I really didn't think she had a chance if they both decided to jump her at once._

_"They say you must be really talented," one mocked, turning my attention from the girl to the shorter brother._

_"We think you look like a runt," the other added, his brother nodding in agreement. "We're betting that your daddy paid a lot of money to send you here, hoping the Academy would make something of his pathetic, worthless offspring."_

_The taller brother had something in his hands, but I couldn't tell from my position what it was. He was frequently turning it over in his palm, so I reasoned it wasn't a knife or something else sharp._

_"You wanna take the risk?" she taunted, glaring harshly at them, "Let's see what you've got."_

_I silently prayed the girl knew what she was getting in to._

_"You asked for it," the taller brother retaliated before throwing the object as hard as he could at her._

_She easily caught it with both hands, laughing darkly at the two brothers. I could see the anger building off the brother who had thrown the object, the redness standing out on his pale skin._

_"You missed."_

_The boy who had thrown the object, which I could now see was a rather large rock, started to walk towards her. But before I could blink, he was on the ground with a gruesome gash on his forehead that was already bleeding profusely._

_"Why you little bitch!" the short brother roared, lunging towards the black-haired girl. I saw the surprise and fear flash across her face before my instincts kicked in. I raced towards them as fast as I could (which was pretty fast, I might add, since I won the sprinting contest during orientation…and every other competition they had, not that I was one to brag)._

_I hit the boy at an angle so we didn't tumble into Clove, who would have probably been crushed to death by the impact of our large frames._

_"Aw, how cute, Cato has a crush on the runt," the boy sneered from under me._

_However, I could see the panic in his eyes as he tried to push me off him. He knew I was stronger than him, he'd seen me crush everyone at the Orientation competitions, even some of the older kids. He feared me and I reveled in it._

_Because I wasn't one to play with my food, I spat in his eye before knocking him out._

_"I had it taken care of, you know," she drawled, looking me up and down as I stood and brushed my hands off on my pants._

_I rolled my eyes. Girls never appreciated when a man stood up for them._

_"You're welcome, brat."_

_She laughed as she followed me back towards the school._

_"Nice punch," she remarked, struggling to keep up with my quick pace._

_I slowed down so she could catch up._

_"Nice throw," I conceded, "Didn't think you had it in you."_

_"He's lucky I didn't have my knife on me. And you know you shouldn't underestimate your competition, or you'll be the first to die," she said, quoting one of our Orientation packet titles._

_"Too true, Little One," I agreed._

* * *

We'd been through a lot together.

I was there when she lost her first fight, which happened to be against one of her female classmates. She refused to go to the hospital wing, so I had to patch her up. Clove still had a scar from it, but the Capitol doctors got rid of it during our "makeover" sessions. "Don't want this ugly thing to mar such a beautiful face," the stylist had chirped. I gave Clove a lot of credit for not stabbing her in the neck with one of the scalpels when the lady turned her back.

I was there for every nightmare she had, which tended to be often since she had such an active imagination. She had blackmailed one of the higher-ups in the Academy to let us share a room, claiming that we were training partners and should be able to work together outside of class. I never knew what she had on him, but it must have been pretty bad since the Academy was severely strict on boys and girls being in each other's bedrooms. Whenever she couldn't sleep, Clove would just sneak into my bed and cuddle up to me. No words were ever needed, which was nice since I sucked at speaking in general.

Hell, I was even there when she got her first period, which was a seriously awkward experience that still made me uncomfortable to think about. Thank god my mom had given me the "talk" before I left for the Academy, or I would have thought Clove was dying, since apparently her parents neglected to tell her about all the lady-nastiness she would eventually go through.

Her parents were too caught up in themselves to be good parents. My family had abandoned me after my sister had died. We were all each other had and would ever have. And we were still just children.

* * *

"You're the brother I never had," Clove whispered, drawing me from my memories, "And the one I would do anything for."

"And you're the little sister I never wanted, but grew to love anyways," I laughed, trying to lighten the mood and move away from my unusually depressing thoughts.

Her serious expression didn't crack.

"Citali would be so proud of you, Cato. Win or lose, you were always the world to her," Clove smiles.

She moves her head up from my chest and notices the tears in my eyes.

"Oh, Cato, what's gotten into you, today?" she murmurs, wiping the few tears that had slipped.

"This place makes me think too much about her. She absolutely worshiped you, Clove," I remark, laughing at how jealous I used to be.

* * *

_We had a two week winter break in December each year at the Academy. Clove's parents had "accidentally" scheduled a trip to the Capitol for that time and insisted they couldn't reschedule, so I brought her home with me. She was the same age as my sister, so I figured they could hang out and do whatever girls that age do while my mom pampered me. I was a momma's boy, through and through, though I'd kill anyone who teased me about it. It made it even more painful when she kicked me out after Citali's death, most likely at my father's insistence._

_What I didn't account for was how much my sister would adore Clove. The entire time, all I heard was-_

_"Cato, Clove is so great, look what she taught me to do!"_

_"Clove is way nicer than you, big bro."_

_"When I grow up, I want to be just like Clove!"_

_"Isn't Clove awesome?"_

_"Clove is so pretty, I wish I looked like her."_

_"You two should get married so Clove and I can be real sisters!"_

_Even my dad liked Clove…and he disliked everyone._

_I probably would have hated Clove to this day if my mom hadn't intervened._

_"What's wrong, buddy?" she asked on the last night before we were to return to school. "Did that fish say something to offend you?"_

_I roughly dropped the knife I had been using to prepare the fish for dinner and looked out the open window in our kitchen. I could see Citali laughing over something Clove had said, a look of total adoration on her face. The same look that she used to have when she looked at me… Before she met stupid fucking Clove, who was nowhere near as talented as me._

_"Look at me, Cato," my mom commanded, obviously knowing already what was bothering me._

_I reluctantly turned to look at her, not really interested in some lecture about how Clove was fucking fabulous, and I should just get used it._

_"Your sister misses you dearly when you're at school, Cato. She loves you more than anything. Shit, she talks about you so much that your father has been debating on sending her to the Academy early just so he won't have to hear about it anymore," she chuckled, but we both know that will never happen._

_Dad was fiercely protective over Citali, who even smaller than Clove. It was likely that he was going to send her to the Academy a few years after her 10th birthday, which was common for the smaller kids whose parents were hoping for a growth spurt. Of course she didn't know this fact yet, and I definitely didn't want to be there when she found out._

_"She doesn't show it very well," I fumed, trying to keep my temper in check. Mom was not a woman you wanted to piss off._

_"Clove is her age and gender; Citali is going to identity with her more than you. And she doesn't really have any friends of her own, so yeah of course she's going to enjoy playing with Clove. That doesn't mean that she's going to stop idolizing her big brother, Cato. Do you see what I'm trying to say?"_

_"I suppose so," I answer, not sure I believe her._

_"Besides, look at Clove. Yeah, she has you when she's at school, but she isn't really close with anyone her age who likes the same stuff she does. And considering how neglectful her parents are, they're a good match for each other. But they still worship you."_

_"Don't let Clove hear you say that, mom," I snicker, "She'd flip shit."_

_"Language, Cato," she scorned. "I see the way she looks at you. Not in a romantic sort of way, but you're definitely someone she looks up to. It's like you have another sister."_

_"Oh god, one is more than enough," I contended._

_"Just wait until tomorrow when you two leave, Cato, if you don't believe me about Citali."_

_I never doubted my mom again after that. The next morning, Citali cried so much that I was surprised we didn't all drown to death by the end of it. She attached herself so strongly to my leg that I started to lose feeling in the extremity. Eventually, I managed to pry her off with the help from my dad, but Clove and I had to race onto the train before she could latch on again._

* * *

I was 15 when it happened.

_Clove and I stood proudly during the Reaping that summer, confident in the abilities of the two tributes that were going to volunteer for the Games._

_Adara always drew out the process of picking out the names, pretending like it actually mattered whose name was read off the slip of paper._

_"Karinda Moore!" she called, using her hand as a visor against the sun as she looked over the crowd for her first tribute._

_The girl who was chosen was one of the fourteen year olds in the class below me. She stepped forward, head held high like she was proud to begin her journey to bring honor to the District. We all knew she wouldn't get the chance and waited patiently for our 18 year old classmate to volunteer. We tried to make the whole thing as dramatic as possible…pretty sure we were all shitty actors, but whatever._

_"I volunteer!" someone calls from the front._

_No, I think immediately, panic setting in. This had to be a nightmare. That voice did not belong to Deandra Rivera._

_It belonged to my twelve year old sister._

_Everyone gasped, shocked. No one ever volunteered that wasn't cleared by the Academy to do so. It was one of the District's strictest laws. Sure, they really couldn't do anything about it, once someone volunteered, no one could volunteer over them (as Karinda tried to do anyways). But you automatically lost all help and privileges that tributes from our District normally receive. You couldn't say goodbye to anyone before being shipped off to the Capitol. The Career tributes would target you the second the Games started. Your mentor refused to get you sponsors, no matter how talented you were._

_We get another week off in the summer so we could all watch the Games and cheer our tributes on. Normally we make a huge celebration out of it in the Academy's courtyard, where the Peacemakers always set up a huge screen. I refused to attend that year, opting instead to watch it in my room, Clove joining me in silence._

_I am unable to move from the screen, only sleeping when Citali sleeps. Our biological clocks seem to match, and I always wake up when she does. Clove says it's my brotherly instincts kicking in, but I think she shakes me awake most of the time._

_I watch as she receives a score of 9, and I can't help but feel proud. She has a chance, I think, despite her small stature and the challenges she will soon face._

_I watch her interview, as she cites me for being her reason to volunteer. She wants to make me proud, and she believes she can win, so don't count her out. I'm scared for her._

_I watch us the other Career tributes refuse to form an alliance with her in the Arena because of her actions, though this is not unexpected. Still, I am angry, because how dare they refuse to give my baby sister their protection? If one of them survives, I vow to hunt them down._

_I watch, petrified as the Game clock counts down to "0". I pray she is smart enough to run away from the Cornucopia. She is._

_I watch as the large District 7 boy befriends her the next day, impressed by her long-range kill of a tribute with an axe. I am grateful for him and his kindness._

_I watch as they plot together to take out the District 2 boy who betrayed his female tribute partner, and I am hopeful. Maybe she can win this now that she has an ally._

_I watch, silently cheering as the District 7 boy spears the District 2 boy right through the heart during a nighttime ambush. Citali spits in his eyes as he dies, before running back to her hideout. I am proud._

_I watch as the remaining Careers head towards her location, and I scream. I scream at her to run, to grab her partner and to get the fuck away from there before they find her. I scream for him to wake up, to sense that she's in danger, to run away from it all._

_I watch as they stay, and I think I'm suffocating. I know what's going to happen. It's four brutal killers against two sleeping tributes. They're pissed they got out smarted, that their leader died at the hands of the two tributes in front of them. The two that everyone counted out from Day 1._

_I watch as they tie her up and force her to watch the death of her partner. My eyes are locked on the screen as I beg for mercy. For her, my little sister. For them to spare her. Clove is silently crying next to me._

_I watch as they kill him quickly, the swipe of a sword across the neck, and he's done. But I know she isn't going to be so lucky._

_I watch, helpless as they torture her. They shame her for volunteering when it wasn't her turn. Mock her for wanting to be like her older brother. The whole time, laughing and cheering each other on. Clove is bawling. Her best friend is gone._

_And when they're finally done, she isn't recognizable anymore. And I feel empty. Helpless, useless, worthless. What kind of big brother can't save his little sister? I want to die, but I know I need to avenge her death first. I will win the Games, I promise right then and there. I will slaughter the District 1 and 4 tributes when the time is right. Each death will be more cruel and vicious than the previous. I will send a message to the viewers at home. No one messes with my sister._

* * *

**A:N: Okay, wow that was deep. Thank Friday the 13th for this chapter. I woke up this morning with no Internet to do my paper for school (the class text book I need is only online), so I wrote this instead...because I refused to leave my house. Yes, I am that superstitious!**

**I definitely planned to write a lot of these memories, I just didn't know when. They seemed to fit here, so there they are.**

**I promise the next chapter will be WAY lighter and have much more Katniss/Cato. I needed to get his past out there because I think it really effects how he acts in the future. **

**Side note: Does anyone have a tumblr? If so, follow me at .com and we can share lots of Hunger Games lolz with one another!**

**As always, read and review! Thank you for all the love so far, ya'll rock :)**


	6. The First Alliance

I pull myself from the memories and look down at Clove. Tears are falling from her eyes, but she refuses to look at me. I can feel them on my shirt, though, so I'm not sure who she's trying to kid. Despite how much we've been through together, Clove still hates looking weak.

"No secrets here, Little One," I whisper, using one hand to turn her face up to me.

Using my thumbs, I gently wipe the tears off her pale, freckled cheeks. She always used to complain about how much she hates her freckles, but I like them. It reminds me that she's still innocent and not the sadistic bitch that she tries to portray to others.

"I miss her," Clove mumbles, trying to turn away again as a fresh wave of tears fall.

"Me too," I agree, pulling Clove closer. "We'll make her proud, Clover. Fuck bringing honor and all that bullshit to District 2. We'll bring honor to Citali and destroy anyone who gets in our way."

"Good plan as always, Cato. But I don't want to form an alliance with Districts 1 and 4," Clove admits, looking at me with wide eyes.

I could never say no to that face, but I knew I had to be smart about this.

"I know, Clove, believe me, I know. But if we suddenly forego an alliance with them…an alliance that has been pretty much set in stone since the first Hunger Games, we'd be putting a target on ourselves-"

"I don't care, Cato! Those fools are nothing without us. I'm not scared of fucking Glimmer and her sluttiness, or that Marvel douche who looks like he doesn't know the difference between a spear and an axe. Don't even get me started on the District 4 duds," she rants.

She tries to get up, but I refuse to let her go. If she starts pacing during her rants, I'll never get another word in.

"Clove, Clove, Clove, your faith in me is disappointing," I tease in an attempt to calm her down. "Of course I have a plan for them."

"Do tell, Oh-Wise-Cato," she sneers, but I know she's interested. My plans were always dangerously adventurous and with her sly maneuvering and overall innocent persona, we never got caught.

"Well, we make nice with them as is expected. Survive the Bloodbath, all that good stuff. And then we tie them up, torture them to death, and then go hunt the others."

Clove cocks an eyebrow at me, before letting out a small sigh of disappointment.

"That's it? And how do you plan to get them all tied up when it's four against two? We're pretty awesome, I agree, but isn't that a bit risky?" she asks.

How dare she doubt my abilities!

"Of course there's more to it than that," I reply haughtily, trying to quickly think of something to add to my Master Plan.

She stares, silently waiting. I see the doubt in her eyes.

Ah, well here goes nothing.

"I want the District 12 girl in our group. She's smart, fierce, and the crowd already loves her. Plus, I doubt she'll care that we stab the others in the back."

Her face is expressionless.

"I don't see her being a big supporter in the torture you're planning, though," she answers, emotionless. I can't read her expression, and for once, I'm completely lost as to what she's thinking.

"Well…she can go sit in a tree or something. She'll get over it," I respond, debating various other ways to keep her away from the carnage I was going to inflict on the Careers. I wasn't going to fool myself and think she won't be able to kill someone, I could see it in her eyes. She will do whatever it takes to survive, but I'd bet my entire sword collection that whatever kills she gets will be quick and painless. Katniss Everdeen didn't seem like someone who would enjoy the suffering of her victims. Not like Clove and me.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to gutting every single one of the Careers. The other tributes I didn't give two shits about. A quick thrust of my sword into their hearts, and they'd be dead. Quick and relatively painless, no need to get things too messy.

But Glimmer, Marvel, and the two District 4 fools were going to suffer. I don't care if I lost every single sponsor. Hell, I wouldn't even care if the Game makers made me a target in the Arena afterwards. As long as I avenge my sister, I don't care what happens next

"Ya know, Cato, I'm surprised and mildly offended you waited to so long to tell me about your crush on Firegirl," Clove remarks casually, laughing at my startled expression. No wonder why Citali loved her. They clearly were mind readers.

"Uh," I blush, not sure what to say to that. "That obvious?"

She laughs loudly now, all traces of sadness gone as we fall into our usual teasing routine.

"My god, Cato, you really think the warning bells didn't go off in my head when you jumped the 12 boy? You might have fooled Adara into thinking he "looked" at you funny, but I know better than that. You're not as brutal as even you like to think."

"I resent that!" I exclaim, in mock offense. "I am a vicious killer who will rip out the throat out of anyone who doesn't look at me with the utmost admiration on their ugly little faces."

Clove's crying again…but this time from laughing so hard. What the fuck, it was not supposed to be _that_ funny…

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, my precious. Now, I'm going to assume you went to talk to her?" she asks, composing herself again. "How'd that go?"

"Heh…"

"You embarrassed yourself, didn't you?" Clove questions, sighing. "You're hopeless at social interactions, ya know."

"I know," I sigh, too, not even bothering to deny it. "I never had to be social at the Academy. I just intimidated everyone by my amazing strength or used my stunning beauty to woo the crowd, and boom, I got whatever I wanted. She doesn't seem to fall for the usual tricks, though. I'm at a loss, Clover."

"Tell me what happened, and we'll go from there," Clove directs, adjusting herself in my lap to get more comfortable.

I can tell she's prepared for a long story, so I tell her everything that happened since I last saw her. I include the bit about Leyla, too, since she played a big role in the rooftop interaction.

When I tell her about the wink I gave Katniss, I can tell Clove is trying to keep herself from laughing at me…again.

"You're a fucking creep, Cato."

"That's what Leyla said, too," I sigh, wondering how I got so awkward. I used to be the shit at the Academy, even without talking.

"We can work with it, though," she asserts so powerfully, that I almost believe her.

"What's so special about her, especially since you barely know her?" Clove asks, and I'm surprised not to hear judgment in her voice. "You've never been interested in like, anyone, before."

"It's…complicated," I answer, unsure how to explain something I can't even put into words yet. It's just a feeling I have and can't shake. I'm not a romantic at all, but I guess it's something like love at first sight.

It isn't as shallow as it sounds, though. I mean, Glimmer is definitely the most attractive girl here, but I'd rather be ugly for the rest of my life than have to spend more than 5 minutes in a room with her. And it's not even because I loathe District 1…she's just obnoxious and gross. She's nothing like Katniss.

"The way she volunteered for her sister like that, it just drew me to her. She's strong but caring. She's powerful, with just a touch of defiance. She's a survivor. She's smart. She's beautiful and everything just stops when I see her. And the weirdest part is, she doesn't understand the effect she has on people," I explain, passionately. I had to get Clove to understand. "She's just everything I could have ever dreamed of in a future partner and more. It's hard to explain, even to myself, it's just this intense feeling that she's meant for me…that I'm meant for her."

"So… she's like the female version of you? But better and doesn't know it?" Clove laughs, untucking herself from my hold to stretch her body out across my bed.

"I guess," I laugh, too, because what else can I say? Katniss was perfect in my eyes. I didn't want to possess her at all, a spirit like that isn't one to be tamed. But I want her to need me, like I can feel myself already needing her. It was a weird feeling to actually like someone.

Before Clove can say anything else, Leyla quietly slides back into the room, two chocolate cupcakes held protectively in her hands.

Leyla must be able to read minds, too, because there is nothing that Clove loves more than chocolate, except maybe her knives, and even that was a close competition. I can see Clove's eyes light up as she adjusts herself on the bed, in case she needs to steal one of the cupcakes for herself.

I honestly had never heard Clove throw such a tantrum when Adara told us on the train that only the higher up Districts get dessert, especially when her only reasoning was, "That's just how it is, deary." Clove ranted for at least half an hour and left over twenty deep dents in the walls of the train with the only knives she could find on the train…butter knives.

"She knows the secret, and she'll keep it on the down-low," I say to Leyla, who was eyeing Clove wearily, unsure if she should speak or not…or perhaps wondering if the older girl was about to throw a knife at her if she didn't get one of the cupcakes as well.

"Oh, good, that makes this a lot easier. Here, Clove is it? I brought you one, too," Leyla smiles, surprisingly warm to Clove who greedily snatches the cupcake from the Avox. My mom always said chocolate brings women together. And hatred over a specific male, but chocolate was most important.

"You might want to wait until you're in your bed to eat it, though," she adds, giggling as Clove painfully forces the treat away from her mouth. "The Avox who oversees us all used to be a chemist for the Capitol, and he developed a sleeping serum that works pretty fast. I mixed it into the icing, so between the endorphins in the chocolate and sleeping serum, you two should have a good sleep with, hopefully, even better dreams."

"Has this been tested, ya know, on humans?" Clove questions, though I don't know why. We both know she'll take her chances.

"Yeah, a lot of the Avox have problems sleeping, so it knocks them right out. Since you don't have the recommended eight hours to sleep, I swiped a few adrenaline needles to get you going in the morning."

Two seconds after Leyla finishes her explanation, Clove has already shoved the entire cupcake in her mouth and is chewing slowly, eyes closed, with an expression of utter bliss on her features.

"You're gross, brat," I state, as I try to hide my smile.

"Yew wuhv meh," she retorts, her mouth still stuck together from the icing.

I roll my eyes at her, but she's too preoccupied trying to keep herself from choking to death to notice.

"MANNERS, CLOVE!" Adara would screech if she saw her tribute right now.

I lick my thumb and wipe off some of the icing she managed to get on her nose. She scrunches her face up in disgust at my actions, but I can already seeing her eyes drooping.

"Hey, Cato?" she asks tiredly.

"Yes, Clovey?"

"Do you think Katniss will give us her desserts if we all become allies? I'll be a good teammate, I promise."

"Maybe, Clove-"

Before I even finish, she's out cold, a small smile adorning her pale face.

"That was really cool of you, to bring us these," I address Leyla, who's already yawning.

I don't even bother wondering if she ate a cupcake of her own, because I notice there's a little bit of the icing on my cupcake missing that was there two minutes ago.

She gives me a big grin before plopping down on my bed and stealing a pillow from Clove.

"No one will know," she whispers to herself, as she snuggles next to Clove.

So much for having a huge bed to myself. Stupid brats, they're lucky I'm too nice to push them off the bed and onto the floor.

"Leyla?" I question, hoping the girl didn't knock out as fast as Clove.

"Yes, Cato-Kitten?"

I cringe at the nickname.

"Why were you so scared to talk on the roof, earlier, when it was just you, me, and Katniss?" I inquire, genuinely curious.

"Oh, that my Cato-Kins, is called acting," she purrs, lightly giggling before falling silent. I raise my eyebrow at her, though no one seems to be awake to see it. She's either a lightweight or ate half the icing when she was making these cupcakes. My guess is the latter. Girls were fat asses when it came to chocolate, not that I'd ever dare to say that aloud. They'd murder me in a second.

I quickly devour my cupcake and fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

"Merrrh, I don't want to get up," I grumble, as I feel someone trying to shake me awake. "Five more minutes?"

"Well, hold still at least," the female voice commands, but my sleep filled brain can't determine if it's Clove or Leyla. They both sound like brats, especially this early in the morning.

"WHAT THE FUCK," I roar, attempting to roll away as the person, who I see is Leyla, pulls a ten inch needle from my arm.

"Adrenaline shot," she smirks, clearly enjoying the pain she put me through. "You gotta be on your game, dearest Cato, or whatever would Katniss think? Imagine that Clove," she calls over her shoulder, where I suppose Clove has taken over my bathroom, "If our precious Cato made a fool of himself in front of his girlfriend."

I hear laughter coming from the bathroom and then Clove answers, "He's already done that, what, twice now?"

They're both laughing now, and I can't help but wonder what I did in a previous life to deserve this. Clove was bad enough, but now that she's partnered up with Leyla, I'll never survive Training.

Shit, I'd rather be in the Arena right now. At least that made sense…or at least it did before Katniss.

"Dude, though, seriously, are you a sleep walker? Cuz you got a nasty bruise that wasn't there last night."

I carefully touch my face where Clove kicked me last night and can already feel how swollen it is. I drag myself out of bed and look in the mirror closest to me. I cringe at the bruise marring my beautiful face, even though I've seen worse. I want to look perfect for Katniss, but whatever. I was still fucking gorgeous with or without the bruise, especially compared to that midget Baker Boy. At least the other tributes will think I got in a fight with someone else and didn't get caught.

Thinking of Katniss reminds me of the dream I had where we got to share a bedroom in the Academy, much like Clove and I had…but way better. The dream reminds me of the question I meant to ask Clove last night.

"Hey, Clove!" I holler over the noise of some device she always uses on her hair.

"What?" she yells back.

I patiently wait for her to turn that shit off, and I'm rewarded when I hear her sigh and come out of the bathroom.

"What'd you have on the Dean that was so bad that he let us share a room?" I inquire, hoping now that we were out of the Academy she'd finally tell me. She always used to laugh when I asked and told me not to worry my "pretty little head" over it.

"Oh, nothing," she's smirking now, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know the answer. "I just told him since you were gay that it would be better for us to share a room instead of you and another dude."

"You're lying!" I accuse, "No one would believe I'm gay. All the bitches loved me."

She's laughing again, and I'm glaring at her tiny frame. Sometimes, I wish she came with a mute button. Okay, more like all the time, but I tried not to stress over it.

"You can only reject the advances of so many girls before people start wondering about you, Cato," Clove laughs, before dancing her way down the hall, demonic hair device in hand.

Fuck my life. Things were starting to make sense now. Like why random girls started asking me for my opinion on their outfits or hairstyles. Some even tried to ask me for boy advice. I usually told them to put out or get out, which always got them to leave me alone. But still… awkward.

"Move, Cato!" Adara screeches from outside my door. "We have a big day, today!"

Every day was a big day in the Capitol.

"Out, munchkin," I direct to Leyla, who flees from the room so I can dress.

When I'm done pulling on the standard training outfit, which gratefully makes me look even more muscular and built than I already am, we take the elevator down to the Training Center.

Adara tsks over the bruise on my face, or my lateness, or perhaps both, but I can't be bothered to care. I was about to see Katniss in my element where I'm less likely to make a fool of myself. Swords didn't need words, and I hoped I'd impress her enough with my abilities. Well, I knew I'd impress her because I'm fucking awesome, but I hoped it was enough for her to realize that an alliance with me would be beneficial to her, and she should ditch Baker Boy who looked like he about as much talent as the bread he bakes.

I'm curious to ask Leyla why she's riding down with us, but I figure her job as "babysitter" continues all the way up until we're in the Arena. I don't mind this, though, she's good company. I'm positive that she'll be willing to help during training if I need a partner.

I'm dying to engage Bread Boy in combative "training" so I can solidify that I dominate him, and will thus, obliterate him in the Arena. Regrettably, tributes can't fight one another until the Games begin so I'll just pass the time with vicious glares and flirting with my Firegirl.

The elevator ride ends, and we step out into a huge gymnasium filled with weapons and obstacle courses. Every weapon glints in the artificial light and on the inside, I'm drooling. I glance towards Clove and smirk when I see her Avox has his hand placed firmly on her shoulder to keep her from running to the knives. They walk ahead to join the rest of the tributes who were congregated in a circle, but I lag behind with Leyla. Katniss wasn't there so no need to socialize, yet.

"What the fuck have you been up to, Avox?" a deep voice bellows, and I feel Leyla being pulled away from me. "What part of 'keep your tribute out of trouble' did your stupid little mind not process? His face was not bruised the last time I saw him. You have been negligent in your duties and will be punished accordingly, you useless excuse for a servant! "

Before I can bat an eyelid, he smacks her brutally across the face, and she falls to the ground, a cry of pain escaping her lips. Redness blurs my vision, and without thinking, I immediately lunge at her attacker, and after one quick punch to the face and a swift kick to the stomach, he's wheezing on the floor, gasping for air.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I contend, glaring roughly down at the Peacekeeper, who is already at least 6 inches shorter than me.

"Stay out of this, boy," he growls, pulling himself up off the ground. "This is grownup business, and you'll be lucky if the Game makers don't kick you out of the Games for what you just did to me."

I ignore his comment about the Game makers. What the hell were they going to do to me? I was the life of the show, next to Katniss of course. And with her on my side, we're guaranteed to be the most exciting duo the Games has seen in years. I'm hot. She's hot. We're even hotter together. The Capitol people will eat that shit up.

"If a man derives his self worth from striking girls half his age and a third his size, than I will happily be a boy for the rest of my life," I snarl, lips pulled back in disgust. "Keep your disgusting paws off MY Avox and leave us the fuck alone."

I lean closer to him for the extra intimidation factor, because I just don't think he gets it.

"And when I win these Games, you best believe the first thing I am going to do is make sure Leyla's okay," I hiss, voice loaded with malice. "And if I find you ever so much as looked at her the wrong way, I will slit your throat and mail your head to your wife, to you understand me, _sir_?"

He nods and shakily walks away, muttering a "sorry" in Leyla's direction. I resist the urge to kick him one more time because that would just be unsportsmanlike, and I was _always_ a good sport.

"You okay?" I ask, trying to shake the anger off. Now is not the time to throw one of my infamous "rage tantrums" as Clove calls them. "Who was that?"

"He's the Head Peacekeeper over the Avox. He gives us our orders and makes sure we follow them," she whispers, "Thanks, Cato, for standing up for me, it was sweet of you."

"Always, babe," I laugh, and she jokingly curls her lip upward at the term. "Up you go."

Before she can protest, I scoop her up and swing her onto my back so that I'm giving her a piggyback ride.

"Oh my god, Cato, this is so embarrassing, put me down!" she whine. "You're making me look like a baby."

"You're my baby," I say in sing-song voice. "No, but seriously, who are you trying to impress? Cuz if you like any of the tributes, I'm judging you…harshly."

When I hear no response from her, I turn my neck so I can get a good look at her. Leyla is about as red as a tomato and looking determinedly at anything but me.

I'm unable to harass her about it, though, because at that moment the last two tributes arrive.

Ah, Katniss is fashionably late. That commands attention. I like it, I think to myself. And she looks delectable in her training outfit, almost as good as me. I'm bombarded with images from my dream, and I start to realize how hot it is in the gymnasium. I will have to drink plenty of water to stay at premium fighting level.

I join the circle of soon-to-be-dead tributes, giving Bread Boy a look of contempt just because I can. There's a bruise adorning his cheek as well, and I can't help but frown at this. Clearly, most of the tributes will think we had another scuffle, which is all fine and dandy, but a bruise on my cheek insinuates that he got a good hit in. And let's be real here, if there was ever hand-to-hand combat between us, he'd be dead before he could even pull his fist back.

I hope Katniss hit him for being a creep, I think bitterly, pushing down my jealousy that his room is probably right next to hers. Fucking douche.

Leyla gives me a little poke in the leg with her foot, interrupting my musings. I look away from Why-Is-He-Still-Alive Puppy and see Katniss looking at me. When she sees that she has my attention, she raises an eyebrow and runs her hand along her cheek in the exact spot where my bruise is.

'I'll tell you later,' I mouth, and she nods, turning her attention back to the lady talking about some shit I didn't care about.

I silently congratulate myself, because fucking Katniss Everdeen noticed me _and_ agreed to talk to me.

Of course she noticed you, dumbass, I scold myself. I am the best looking person in this room right now, and I have an adorable 13 year old on my back. Chicks love the big brother shit.

I instinctively start to flex my biceps, subtly of course, but I feel Leyla tighten her legs around my waist, and not-so-gently stick her nails into my arms.

"Stop," Leyla warns. "You're acting like a tool."

"Katniss and I are going to talk later," I whisper quietly enough so that none of the other tributes hear me.

Fortunately, I'm standing only near Clove who is freakishly absorbed in this lady's lecture and the little District 11 girl, who seems to be making faces back and forth with Leyla.

However, the District 1 slut is staring me up and down like I'm a piece of meat she wants to consume. Normally, I'm flattered by these looks, but she just grosses me out. I fight the urge to gag, and instead raise my eyebrow at her. She pretends to be embarrassed about being caught, but then sends me a very _unsubtle_ wink. I blanch. This girl was going to be taken out quickly to save us all from her presence.

"Congrats, deary. Maybe you should let Clove beat you up more often since it seems to be quite the selling point for conversations today."

"She got a lucky shot," I grumble, relieved that the lady is finally letting us go to the stations.

"Yeah, sure," Leyla agrees. "Put me down, I have to go stand in the background with the other Avox."

I let her down, and she dances her way over to the back walls where the other Avox are standing inconspicuously. It's scary how well they can blend into their surroundings, but I suppose for them it's better to go unnoticed. I shudder at the thought.

Clove is already at the knife station and entranced by whatever the guy there is saying. The District 11 girl is at the top of the net climbing wall, smiling down at Marvel who has gone pale while watching her climb. Stupid idiot must have finally realized how high he now has to climb or else he'll look like a pussy. I laugh, hoping he falls from the top.

I scan the room for Katniss and find her at the knot station…with Dead, I mean Bread, Boy. I let out a low growl and slink my way over, undetected by both.

"Hey, beautiful," I murmur in her ear, letting out a husky laugh when she jumps.

"Uh, hey," she says, giving me that weird look again, like she's trying to figure out my motives.

"You want me to teach you some moves with a sword?" I ask, hoping she warms up to me. And quickly. I'd probably snap Bread Boy's neck if she rejected me in front of him.

Then I realize all the sexual innuendos in my last sentence and can't help but blush. She didn't seem to catch on, but the leech at her side seems to, going off the look of hatred on his face. I piss him off without even trying. Perfect.

"We're busy," Bread Boy answers for her, and I see her twitch slightly.

"Did I ask you?" I bark, not in the mood for his shit. He clearly has a death wish, and who would I be if I didn't grant it to him? I crack my knuckles, threateningly.

"You didn't really say anyone's name, so I mean, for all I know, you might have been asking me," he smirks, eyebrow raised in silent challenge.

Even Katniss seems surprise at his daring. I feel the growl building deep in my throat, but before I can respond, Katniss finally speaks.

"No, thanks Cato, I really need to practice my snares," she replies, "But we'll talk before lunch?"

I nod, because I don't trust myself to speak, and head over to the sword area. Shoving the District 5 male tribute out of the way, I grab the nearest sword and channel my anger into practicing.

* * *

**A/N: Yay another chapter! Cato has two allies now, but are they enough to help him win the girl?**

**Here's a look at what to expect in the next few chapters:**

**Katniss/ Cato talking in the Training Center**

**Leyla has a new scheme in mind**

**The interviews ! Not sure how I'm going to play this one, but I have some surprises in store**

**Thank you all for your love and support! I don't think I can ever convey how much it means to me. You're all the best :)**


	7. A Whole New World

I spend the morning hours practicing with the various swords, allowing all the pent up emotions of the last few days to slowly seep out from my pores. Before I know it, Leyla is by my side, handing me a towel and telling me it's time for lunch.

"I'm not hungry," I whine, attempting to slide around her and to the spear throwing station. I know I had to face Katniss soon, and despite being excited to speak to her again, I was also dreading it.

"Too bad, princess," she sneers, sticking her foot out so I almost trip. "They won't let you stay in here. Besides, aren't you supposed to talk to your girlfriend?"

"You can talk to her for me?" I suggest, not really wanting to make a fool of myself again. "She likes you better, anyways."

"Yeah, because I'm fucking awesome and you're weird…but no. Man up and talk to her yourself, Cato. I'm horrified that you even suggest such a thing. What happened to the Confident Cato that I saw this morning?" she demands, kicking me in the leg for good measure. Why did I surround myself with such aggressive girls? I hope Katniss doesn't try to beat me up…though that might be kind of hot. Ugh, not the time to think about this kind of stuff right now, I scold myself.

"You're right, she'll love me. What should I say to her, though?" I ask, debating on what I should say when she asks about my bruise. On one hand, admitting that Clove kicked me is super embarrassing, but she'd probably think I'm a vicious loser who attacks helpless people if I told her I got in from another tribute. Maybe I'll say Thresh did it? He's huge but doesn't seem like the confrontational type. Bah, I don't know, maybe I'll just tell her that I fell in the shower. Then, at least, she might picture me naked.

"Don't know, don't care. Be yourself, just less creepy."

"Easier said than done, my dear," I laugh loudly, causing her to giggle.

"What's so funny?" a voice behind us asks, and I freeze, unsure of how to respond.

Leyla casually stomps on my foot, shaking me from my stupor. I turn around to talk to Katniss who is looking back at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, nothing much," I say, as I move to scratch the back of my head. "Leyla here is just quite the jokester."

Even before I finish, I die a little inside. Who says jokester, anymore? Shit, was that _ever_ a cool word? I doubted it.

"Oh, stop, Cato," Leyla snickers as she moves to stand slightly behind Katniss. "It's easy to be funny when you give me so much material to work with."

Katniss smiles and I feel myself instantly relaxing. I could do this.

"You were pretty impressive this morning," she remarks, glancing towards the sword station.

"You noticed?" I ask, feeling smug that she paid attention to me and not the stupid baker from her District.

"You were kind of hard to miss," she responds. "I think everyone was mesmerized at some point… even Peeta, but don't tell him I told you that."

Of course Bread Boy would be impressed, I think to myself. Even he is intelligent enough to know talent when he sees it.

"Your secret is safe with me, Fire Girl," I remark, giving her a small smile.

Suddenly a loud noise interrupts our conversation, and I cringe when I realize it is my stomach grumbling.

"Not hungry, aye?" Leyla mocks, sticking her tongue out at me from her safe location behind Katniss.

"My body isn't used to not having dessert," I concede, gently patting my stomach so it shuts the fuck up.

"Why do the lower Districts not get dessert?" Katniss inquires, as we make our way towards the cafeteria located on the side of the gym.

I vaguely notice that we're the only tributes left in the Training area, and a few the station masters are giving us odd looks. I pick up Leyla once more and swing her on to my back just in case they decide to try anything funny.

"It's a conspiracy," I whisper darkly, trying not to smirk when she gasps in mock horror. "The Gamemakers want to deprive all the girls of their usual chocolate intake so they become even more insane when they are tossed into the Arena."

She nods, "That makes sense. What a horrible disadvantage that must place you in."

"Us males, we manage," I point out. "Because no amount of chocolate deprivation can make us that crazy since we are most definitely the superior gender."

"Oh, yes, obviously that must be the case," she laughs before giving a discreet nod to the red-headed Avox waiting patiently by the cafeteria door.

"Wait," I warn, before Katniss steps inside. "Be careful of Clove."

"Oh?" she questions, and I can see the curiosity in her eyes.

"Don't tell her I told you this," I continue, ominously, "But she's already planning to break into the kitchen on your floor…and steal your desserts. I'm just saying, watch your back 12."

"Duly noted," she smirks, stepping around me and joining the end of the line for food.

I stand behind her and take a look at my surroundings.

Clove is sitting with the tributes from District 1 and 4, looking completely annoyed. To most, she probably seems bored, but I can see the way her eye twitches slightly and the strong grip that she has on her fork that she's trying really hard not to stab someone. I'm proud she has gathered some self restraint over her emotions recently…the Academy had quite a few incidents of children getting stabbed with no one ever "knowing" who did it. One of the nurses feared we were being overrun by ghosts of dead tributes from other Districts.

All of the other tributes who weren't still in line for food were spread out across the room. Only the District 11 tributes were sitting together, and even they weren't interacting. The girl seemed to notice my gaze and looked up from her plate, giving Leyla a wide smile and a small wave.

I knew right then and there that there was no way I was going to not offer this little girl, Rue I think her name is, my protection. Not only could she be extremely useful as a spy, but with a few lessons in knife throwing, she could be lethal…that is of course, if she could handle killing someone (which I doubted, but I'd keep an eye on her for the rest of training to see what I was working with). Plus she reminded me so much of my sister, there was no way I could handle seeing her die, especially at the hands of one of my allies (because there was no way in hell I was going to kill her, even if we were the last two remaining).

"You're going to have to play nicely and sit with the District 12 boy," Leyla instructs quietly, interrupting my plotting.

I give a small nod because I know my words won't be very kind.

I fill my plate with all kinds of food, from chicken and rice, to bread and soup, ignoring the amused looks Katniss was sending me.

"Food for two?" she smirks, patting my stomach like people do to pregnant women.

I try to focus on breathing because I feel like I'm about to hyperventilate.

Katniss Everdeen is touching my abs…and I have no idea how to respond to this.

"Whoa…" she mutters, a blush forming on her tan cheeks.

I look down, hoping to god that my excitement isn't showing.

"What?" I ask, when I realize it isn't.

"Uh..just didn't realize someone could eat that much and still be uh, ya know, muscular?" she stammers out, and I suddenly feel proud that my perfect body has rendered her speechless.

"Oh, you mean like this?" I ask as I pull up my shirt.

"Oh my god, Cato!" she shrieks, turning away from me and covering her eyes. "Put it away!"

Not the reaction I was going for…

"Cato, ew, seriously? We're in public," Leyla mocks, using her best Capitol accent.

"How indecent!" Katniss screeches, mimicking Leyla's Capitol tone.

"Okay, okay, my bad!" I exclaim, pulling my shirt back down. "It's safe to look, Katniss."

She slowly turns back to face me, and I can see the faint blush on her face has gone away.

After grabbing a few cartons of milk and placing them on my tray, we awkwardly stand at the end of the line while we wait for the other to make a move towards a table.

"We can sit by Bread Boy, I'll be nice," I assure Katniss, who doesn't look convinced. "Pinky promise."

She raises her eyebrow at me.

"You sound like my twelve year old sister," she remarks as we head towards the middle table where her District partner is sitting. I shrug and tell her I learned it from Clove. I can't bring myself to say that my dead sister considered pinky promises the holiest of all promises. You did not break a pinky promise…you just didn't.

And now everyone is going to see that I'm eating lunch with this loser, I think to myself as we take our spots at the table. I deserved to be killed first in the Bloodbath at this rate.

"Hello," Bread Boy glowers as I sit across from him. He gives Katniss the most obvious What-the-fuck-are-you-doing look, which she ignores.

Ha, good, my sexiness must unnerve him.

"Cato," I say, as I stick my hand out.

I promised I'd be nice, so I would, no matter how much I wanted to run my fork through his misshapen face. I was so much better looking than him that it physically pains me.

"Peeta," he states, grasping my hand roughly. We squeeze each other's hand as hard as we can while we shake, but neither of us flinch.

I am confused by this, of course, because I've broken many hands of competitors this way at the Academy. Perhaps I've underestimated his strength? I will have to do research on this anomaly.

"And who is this?" Peeta asks, and I see him giving a small smile towards Leyla. I can't wait to wipe that smile off his face the second we get into the Arena.

"Hi, I'm Leyla," she declares, happily shaking his hand like an excited tween girl would do to a celebrity. "I'm a huge fan."

Now it's my turn to give Leyla the biggest What-the-fuck-are-you-doing look.

I am also ignored.

"It's nice to meet you, Leyla-"

"Uh, forgetting someone, Cato?" a voice behind me barks, and I want to smack my head on the table.

"Hey, Clovey," I acknowledge, relieved when I see that she didn't bring the others from her table with her. This was not supposed to be some sort of party.

"Scoot over, munchkin," Clove instructs to Leyla, who immediately moves closer to my side. I hand her the extra fork I grabbed, and she begins to dig into my food with a vengeance.

"I'm Clove," she verifies to Bread Boy, seemingly shaking his hand without malice. "Your work at the camouflage station was incredible."

Leyla shakes her head in agreement, and I am starting to feel like I missed some sort of memo. Since when did Clove give out genuine compliments? And why the fuck is she staring at him like he's anything but coal miner scum?

"Thank you. I can show you some easy techniques after lunch if you want," he offers, and I'm automatically suspicious. Why would he want to help a Career tribute? If he thinks he can score an alliance with us, he is severely mistaken.

"That'd be cool," Clove accepts, smiling. "Where'd you learn how to do all that?"

"I decorate the cakes back home in the bakery," he answers, and I know without looking over that he's won Clove over.

What in the flying fuck is happening right now? He's supposed to be her number one enemy in the Games, not her new best friend. I clearly slept through a strategy meeting.

Katniss's face is expressionless, so I can't tell what she thinks about all of this. She doesn't say anything, though, so I guess she's okay with it. Or as confused as I am.

"So where'd you get that bruise?" I sneer, not giving a damn that I just interrupted Leyla who was trying to ask Bread Boy some useless question. "Katniss catch you peeking at her in the shower and deck you?"

"Not quite," he growls. "You try to start a fight with someone else who didn't do anything to you?"

"Not quite-"

"I kicked him for hitting you," Clove interjects, glaring harshly at me. "We're sorry for his behavior, it is not becoming of District 2 tributes."

I snort, wondering if anyone believes her bullshit.

I resign myself to listening to Clove and Leyla chat Bread Boy up while I quickly finish my meal. In silent agreement, Katniss and I get up together, put our trays up, and head back to the Training room.

"Is he some sort of celebrity I don't know about?" I ask as we head towards one of the obstacle course.

"He must be," she jokes. "He does seem to be getting quite the fan-base."

I look over my shoulder to see they've all made their way over to the camouflage station again. Bread Boy has found himself surrounded by both Clove and Leyla, along with Rue, the District 5 girl, and even Glimmer. All of them were listening raptly to what he was saying about one of the paints.

"I guess this gives us plenty of time for you to teach me about swords," she comments. "At least, after I kick your ass in this obstacle course."

Before I can reply, she takes off, and I feel the need to pinch myself. What sort of dream world is this?


	8. The Challenge

"You okay over there, slowpoke?" Katniss laughs as we finish the obstacle course. She beat me easily, but in my defense, she cheated.

"You aren't supposed to run after eating," I wheeze, trying to regain my breath and calm my stomach down. "It isn't healthy…and we all know you cheated."

She rolls her eyes at my defense.

"You're slower than me, just admit it, Cato," she challenges, pulling herself up to her full height, as if it was something impressive. The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder.

"Oh, really, Fire girl?" I object, straightening up so that I tower over her. She doesn't back down or flinch, but I can see her eyes harden. "How about a rematch after your sword lessons?"

"If you can handle losing again, then fine that works for me," she replies smugly.

Because I am ridiculously too mature for her games, I stick my tongue out at her in response.

"Let's get some water," I suggest. "And then we can play with some fucking swords!"

"Alright, hold on to your panties, Cato. We'll get to play with your precious weapons soon."

"That's right we will," I confirm as we make our way over to the water fountain located on the side of the gym.

We pass Bread Boy and his entourage of women, and I can't help but feel a little annoyed again. Why are Clove and Leyla so enthralled with this weird kid from District 12? He wasn't anything special, and after talking to him at lunch, he didn't seem very intelligent either. He probably only garnishes cakes because he didn't have the brains to do anything else. Besides, I am much better looking.

No one else in the gym seems to be paying that much attention to the party at the camouflage station, but I see some of them glance over occasionally, probably just as fucking confused as I am. Poor Marvel looked lost without his District partner at his side. I file this information away for later because it would be an easy weakness to exploit.

"You sure you don't want to get a fake tattoo, instead?" I ask Katniss bitterly as Bread Boy draws a flower on Clove's cheek. She giggles lightly, and even from this distance, I can see the blush rising on her skin. I feel my protective big brother side clawing to be released, and I clench my fists by my side, resisting the urge to go over there and pummel him to death.

"Jealous much?" she retorts before bending down to get a drink of water. I discreetly check her out from the corner of my eye, impressed with what I see. She's small and slim but clearly strong and healthy. She's the perfect size to cuddle with…not that I'd ever admit to liking to cuddle.

"What, me and Clove? Ew, never," I scoff when she finishes drinking. "She's like my sister."

"You can still be jealous that she isn't paying attention to you," Katniss points out as she moves out of the way so I can get a quick drink.

"I'm not jealous," I grumble when I finish drinking. I wipe the stray water off my lips with the back of my hand while I glower down at her.

"Of course not, Cato," she rolls her eyes before walking towards the net climbing wall.

"Swords are over there Kitty Kat," I taunt, putting my hand on her shoulder to turn her in the opposite direction. I easily evade the kick she sends to my shins, taking pride in my quick reflexes, before she punches me in the shoulder. For such a small girl, she has quite the arm, I note as I rub the spot on my arm that she hit.

"Don't call me that, Cato-Kitten," she purrs mockingly. "I have a challenge for you."

"Oh, really?" I reply excitedly, hoping it involved hand-to-hand combat with Bread Boy. It might be illegal to fight another tribute in the Training center, but I am always down for an illicit scuffle off school grounds. The rooftop, perhaps? Maybe I could throw him over and pretend as if it was an accident…

"Yeah, I think you'll like this one." I can sense the smirk in her voice without seeing her face.

I accidentally run into her when she stops walking because I'm so absorbed in my daydream of beating the shit out of Bread Boy. I grab the back of her outfit before she can fall forward and yank her back into standing position. I overestimate how much she weighs, though, and the force of the tug on her shirt sends her careening into my chest.

"Whoa, you okay?" I ask as I wrap my arms protectively around her.

"Yeah, I'm good," she answers, wiggling against my hold. "You can let me go now…"

"Oh, right, sorry," I say as I let her go, patting her on the head for good measure. She turns to face me, a small blush blossoming over her cheeks.

"What's the challenge?" I question, hoping to distract her from how klutzy and awkward I am.

"A climb-off," she responds, nodding over to the net climbing wall that reaches from the floor to the ceiling. My pulse starts to race, and I feel myself start to panic. There is no way I was going to make it even halfway up that net without having a panic attack.

"Uh, nah I think I'm good, I'll just go play in the sword section by myself," I counter after glancing at the net again. So not happening, no matter how much of a pussy I looked like. I'd happily throw my spear at any tribute who tried to escape my attack by climbing a tree. Or just chop it down. Whatever worked, I wasn't picky.

"You're going to chicken out? Aw, is Big Scary Cato afraid of heights?" she teases, patting me awkwardly on the shoulder. "It's okay, we can go finger paint if it'll make you feel better."

"No, I just don't want to climb right now," I assert, hoping she lets it go. I really wasn't sure how I was going to get out of this one.

"Are you sure? Because I don't see any other reason for you to decline the challenge. It does lean towards your favor after all, since you're significantly taller than me and can reach higher."

She starts to stretch her arms out in preparation for the climb, and I am completely torn. On one hand, I can never turn down a challenge, and it gives me more time to spend with Katniss. On the other hand, I did, to an extent, have a fear of heights.

"Fine, I agree to your challenge, only if I get to practice first," I accept unhappily. "What does the winner get?"

"Alright, you can practice," she agrees, smirking. "If you win, which you won't, we can spend the rest of the day at the sword station with no complaints from me. If I win, which I will, you admit to the whole Training center that I beat you fair and square at the obstacle course, and that you beat Peeta up because you were jealous that he's better looking than you. "

"But you already said we could do swords next!" I pout, not caring that I sounded like a two year old. Or Clove when she didn't get her way. "And you get two things when I only get one."

"I changed my mind," she shrugs nonchalantly. "This is more fun. But fine, if you win I will tell everyone that you kicked my ass at net climbing and the obstacle course."

"Whatever, alright," I sigh, praying to any and all deities that I didn't die in my attempt to impress Katniss. "Give me an hour alone to practice and then we can duke it out. Don't be surprised when I just throw you off the net," I joke half-heartedly. "I'm very competitive."

If it were anyone but her, I'd probably kick him or her off and then take my time climbing up, not giving a single fuck that I wasn't playing "fair". Maybe, if I survived this, I could challenge Bread Boy to this more violent climb-off. What a fucking fantastic idea, I mentally congratulate myself, my spirits instantly lifting. I can do this.

"You need an hour-?"

"Yes," I interject firmly. I probably needed a month, at least, to get over this ingrained fear I have of heights, but unfortunately, my time was limited. An hour would have to suffice.

"Well, alright, I guess I'll just go work on my own tattoo skills," Katniss laughs before sauntering off towards the camouflage station, where Bread Boy was now working with Glimmer. I watch as Clove finishes a design on Leyla's cheek and waits patiently for the District 12 loser to observe her work. I sigh, wondering what was wrong with Clove. Maybe the Capitol poisoned her with a love potion to add to the drama of the Games? I wasn't even sure if those even exist, but at this point, I'd believe almost anything.

"I can help you if you want," a small voice from my left side chirps.

Surprised, I glance down to see the District 11 girl looking up at me expectantly.

"Why would you want to help me?" I ask suspiciously. I'm sure she's harmless, but most of the smaller District tributes were terrified of me. I can see it in their eyes every time they accidentally make eye contact with me. It's the same look the kids back at the Academy used to give me after I won my first Weapons Competition against one of the older students; it was like a deer caught in headlines (not that I'd ever seen a dear in real life, but whatever).

"My mentor said I should make friends," she answers honestly, twirling a piece of her curly hair around her fingers. "You seem nice. I don't know why everyone thinks you're scary."

"Oh, yeah? Who thinks I'm scary?" I smirk, glad I at least intimidated some people. I clearly needed the ego boost.

"I'm not good with names, but the kids from District 3 are petrified of you after you fought the Peeta kid," she giggles as she slides closer to the net, beckoning me to move with her. "Even Thresh 'respects your strength'" she says, using air quotes to cite what her District partner said.

"He told you this?" I question, surprised. Up until now, I wasn't sure if he could even talk. I was interested to see what angle his mentor would take during the interview.

"I overheard a few things," she whispers conspiringly, bringing her finger to her mouth to signal this was a secret I shouldn't tell anyone. Not that I would, because to be honest, that kid was terrifying. I was completely confident that I could take him down in battle, but I wasn't sure that I would come out completely unscathed. Plus, I always respected someone that physically intimidating, especially since I'm sure he didn't work out or even train for the Games. He was just that fucking huge after working in the fields, and it was inspiring. If he wasn't about to die in a few days, he would be someone I would look to be friends with.

"So why don't you befriend Thresh?" I question in my attempt to stall the inevitable death I was about to face.

"He's boring…but nice!" she clarifies when she sees my cocked eyebrow.

"And why do you think I'm nice and not scary?" I add, sensing she was easily distractible.

"I saw what you did for your Avox," she grins. "Now, do you want my help or not?"

"You girls are killing my reputation," I groan as I slink over to the net.

"All of them are going to be dead within a week's time, who cares what they think?" Rue says bluntly.

To say her statement shocks me would be the understatement of the year. Of course, I didn't think I would be dead within a week, but I knew it was a possibility. It truly sickened me though to hear such a young, innocent girl say something like this. And the worst part is I know that I know she's right.

"I suppose you're right," I agree, not knowing what else to say. Is there even anything _to_ say to that? I'm starting to realize she was one of those people who would say what everyone else was thinking, no matter how politically "incorrect" it was.

"Let's make a deal," I continue. "If you can whip me into net-climbing shape, we can form a secret co-op alliance. If I lose, then you'll have to deal with just Thresh for company."

"Do you really think the others will let me in?" she answers skeptically, eyeing Glimmer who looks like she is bitching Clove out about spilling paint on her outfit and Marvel who was still lost, this time at the archery section.

"I may or may not have a deceitful plan in the works where their opinions won't matter," I smirk, knowing she was someone I could trust. Granted, no one probably thought I could even come up with a clandestine operation, so they wouldn't believe her anyways.

"I'm going to be quite the drill instructor," she warns ominously. "Your mentors will have nothing on me."

"I need to win, I'm prepared for anything," I accept, not really believing she could be worse than my instructors at the Academy were. "But… uh yeah, I'm mildly afraid of heights."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," she replies optimistically. "It isn't that high."

"Are you serious?" I ask incredulously. "It's like…sixty feet up!"

"You're being dramatic, Cato," she sighs. "Now be honest, what exactly are you scared of? Falling? Because you're definitely strong enough to carry your own weight, so as long as you're careful, you won't have any problems."

"I'm not sure," I answer candidly. "Okay, I do know. I climbed a tree once back at the Academy because Clove bet me she could climb higher than I could… and I fell from like ten feet up when a branch broke. It was traumatizing."

"I see." Rue observes the net, before turning to face me. She jumps back a little so she doesn't have to crane her neck completely back to look at me. "Okay, here's what I can offer you. First, don't look down. Seriously, worst idea ever. Secondly, net climbing is way easier than trees. You don't have to worry about one of the little squares breaking as you would a tree branch. You'll do fine, Cato, trust me, I'm an expert!"

"I'm going to die before the Games even start," I sigh dramatically before beginning the climb up the death trap.

We spend the next forty-five minutes practicing my climbing techniques, which fortunately, isn't as frightening as I thought (as long as I don't look down. I made that mistake once and refused to move from my current spot on the net for another five minutes until Rue talked me down…actually she shook the net until I was all but forced to move to survive... she giggled the whole time, and I still have no idea how someone so tiny managed to shake my weight. Another brat to add to my collection). Climbing down was actually fun, once I got the hang of scaling down the net. I would totally get splinters if I tried to do it on a tree, but on the net, I could easily drop down a couple of "squares" as I called them, with only minor rope burn.

When our hour of training is up, Katniss approaches us with a blazing fire design going up and down her left arm. I'm not a fan of the creepy tattoos the Capitol freaks frequently get adorned over their bodies, but this one definitely looks good on Katniss.

"I really don't know what kind of camouflage style you're going for," I remark when she gets close enough. "If you're trying to blend into a fire pit, I think you'll fit in nicely."

"I'm trying to blend into the Capitol, obviously," she grins, giving Rue a small wave and a bigger smile which the younger girl happily returns. "I see you found your own personal trainer."

"Yeah, the stationmaster just wasn't good enough," I tease, rubbing Rue's hair jokingly. I ignore her indignant screech and laugh at the glare she gives me. It's so unfitting for her innocent face, that it's comical.

"Alright, let's go then. The winner is whoever gets to the top first."

"And back down," I add, knowing my advantage lies here. Katniss would most likely beat me to the top, as Rue did every time, but I was confident that I could scale down better than she could. It also helped that I had at least eight inches of height on her and superior strength.

"Deal," she agrees, though somewhat suspiciously. "Since Rue is 'Team Cato' apparently, we'll need a judge who is impartial."

"I volunteer," the stationmaster interjects from his position to the side of the net. He smirks at her glare when she recognizes whom he's quoting.

"Fine, you can do the countdown, too," she directs, once again stretching her arm muscles out. I do the same, though mine are already loose from the past hour of climbing. "You ready, kitten?"

"If I win, can we also add that you don't call me that?" I grimace, ignoring the bark of laughter from the stationmaster. I was tempted to scale the net down and land right on his grotesque face.

"Nope, we already agreed to the terms!" she snickers along with Rue.

I needed more guy friends. Like now.

"Alright, keep it fair you two," the stationmaster instructs, though I sense he's hoping for some drama. I wasn't going to kick her off the net, but I did have a few tricks up my sleeve just in case I fell behind.

He counts down from three, and when he says, "go", we both fly up the net as if our lives' depend on it. However, in a sense, mine technically does, because I will fucking die if I have to tell everyone in the Training center that I lost a race to Katniss and fought Bread Douche because I was jealous of him. How embarrassing. Death, at that point, would be much more of a suitable solution.

As expected, she's ahead of me on the climb up, but I "accidentally" shake the net as I scramble higher, which causes her to slow down so she doesn't plummet to the ground. Regrettably, I didn't account for the fact that she would play dirty too, and her foot smashes the top of my head as she regains her foothold. Briefly stunned, she keeps climbing while I regain my bearings. I hear her laugh as she calls down a "sorry, kitten" from the top. From below, I can hear Clove, Rue, and Leyla cheering for me to go faster, while Bread Douche roots for Katniss.

Angry at the fact that I was losing, I take a deep breath and climb quicker. Unlike what Rue taught me, Katniss climbs down instead of scaling down. I soon reach the top and decide now was the time to take a risk if I wanted to win. Without looking down to see how far along she is, I inhale and then release the net, ignoring the screams of the girls below me. I force myself to look down to calculate when I need to re-grab onto the net and quell the feeling of panic rising up. "You got this, Cato," I whisper to myself.

Half way down the net, I grasp onto it again, thanking whoever decided to hammer in to the floor so it shakes less. If it had been only attached to the ceiling, my stunt definitely would have sent Katniss flying off. Before I can start to think too much and freak myself out, I drop the same way again two more times before finally landing on the ground. Looking around, I see that Katniss is about half way down and already glaring at me from her position.

"That's not how we practiced scaling, Cato! You could have died!" Rue shrieks before latching onto my leg. I can feel her take deep breaths, and I wonder just how much she's already attached to me. I know it's stupid considering we may all be dead soon, but I felt grateful for her concern.

"Well, I didn't die so that's what counts," I counter, wincing when she smacks my leg. Are all girls this violent, or just the ones I hang out with?

The other girls congratulate me, and I manage to avoid Glimmer's "congratulations" hug by picking Rue up and tossing her up and down in celebration. She squeals in excitement or fear…not really sure which, but I put her down when Katniss finishes her descent from the net.

"We all know you cheated," she states bitterly, clearing unhappy that she lost.

I smirk as I feel the déjà vu coming on.

"You're slower than me, admit it, Katniss," I taunt, elated in my victory. I really don't care that she has to admit I beat her in two challenges, but I was beyond relieved that I didn't have to say some shit about King Douche Baker being superior to me. I must not tell lies, as my father always taught me (unless they benefitted me in some way, which in this case, they wouldn't).

"Whatever, Cato," she frowns. "You win, I'll tell everyone tomorrow at lunch where it's easier to talk everyone at once."

"I have a better idea," I say, suddenly struck with an epiphany. "You give me a kiss, a proper one, and I'll forgive _all_ of your debts."

The other girls gasp dramatically at my suggestion, and I gently smack Rue and Leyla who "ew" simultaneously. I nervously wait as Katniss silently mulls over my proposition.

* * *

**A/N: Yay another chapter! I'm done with school, so I'm definitely getting back into the flow of writing. I love ALL of your suggestions/comments, so please keep them coming!**

**As always, your support means the most to me. Muah, love you all 3**


	9. Breaking

"Define 'proper' kiss," Katniss inquires after a moment of silence.

I pause, knowing that this is an important question. Did I want a cheek kiss? A peck on the lips? Some tongue action? I didn't want to push too far, especially with an audience of brats and soon to be murder victims. I decide not to play it completely safe, though.

"A peck on the lips," I say boldly, silently praying that she accepts. God, how fucking embarrassing would it be if she didn't? I'm pretty sure I'd lose every ally in the Games and be forced to forge on alone. Even Clove wouldn't be able to stand the shame of being my partner in the Games. Ugh, that couldn't happen to me, despite my confidence in my ability to beat anyone and everyone. I didn't need the added stress of having to fight off an alliance of Career tributes that I wasn't allowed to be in. Fucking awkward.

Fortunately, my worries are for naught.

"Fine, I accept," she declares, ignoring Bread Douche's bitching that she doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to do.

"Really?" I ask, surprised. I mean, it's definitely an honor to kiss me (especially since it'll be my first kiss, but she doesn't need to know that), but I really thought she would decline.

Cato 1, Bread Boy 0.

Ha, I'm a fucking champ even before the Games start. Score!

"Yes, now let's get this over with," she sighs, beckoning me forward.

For the most part, the other tributes are silent, but I can hear the small squeals of the girls, most prominently, Leyla.

"Oh my gosh, Clove, how cute is this!" Leyla whispers to Clove, who I can only imagine gives a short nod in return.

"Shh, be quiet before you ruin the moment," Clove demands, which immediately causes Leyla to stop talking.

"I didn't expect a love story when I got Reaped," Rue remarks even quieter, which I'll honestly say I have to agree with. This was not part of the Training we received at the Academy, though I assume our mentors never thought any of us would be weak enough to fall for one of the other tributes. Oh well, I make my own rules, always have and always will.

"I hope he ate one of those free mints they gave us after lunch," Clove snickers, and I start to panic. What if my breath smelled bad? What if Katniss was mortified by this kiss and never talked to me again? What if she made fun of me behind my back, and her and Bread Douche had a good laugh afterwards, in between making out with their minty smelling breaths. This was so not one of my best impulsive ideas.

I don't have time to try to delay the new rule change, because Katniss, who looks somewhat agitated by my lack of movement, strides forward and places her hands on the sides of my face. Before I can even blink, she moves her face closer to mine, and I can feel her breath tingling against my lips. Not minty, so that was good. At least I wasn't the only one who missed the mints after lunch. I suck in a quick breath and then suddenly feel her soft lips on my harder, chapped ones. The kiss is short, probably no more than five seconds, but to me, it feels like heaven. Her lips are warm and plump, but thankfully not oozing with lip-gloss and whatever other nasty stuff girls were always loading their lips with. I can only describe it as natural, pure…fucking perfect.

"Can we get a round of applause for Cato's first kiss, please?" Clove fearlessly cheers, and the rest of the Training center reluctantly claps. Most of the girls, including the Avox and stationmasters, enthusiastically applaud, some hooting and hollering (though I think this was mostly Clove, Leyla, and one of the younger stationmasters). The guys just look awkward and uncomfortable, clearly unsure of what was expected of them. I shudder when I notice how murderous Glimmer looks. She'd probably slit Katniss's throat in the middle of the night if she could get away with it. Glimmer was definitely on top of my People-to-Take-Down-Immediately List, tied at this point with Bread Boy.

Mortified at Clove's comment, I feel my face start to heat up and I refuse to make eye contact with Katniss who's snickering, too. Fuck my life.

I wonder if this was her first kiss…

"Katniss, how could you?" Peeta murmurs, looking distraught. Ha, good. Stupid tool should know his place by now. It was clear I am superior, despite his best efforts at trying to show me up.

Bread Douche moves to stand somewhat closer to me now so he can look her in the eyes. He leans closer, and I hear him whisper, "This isn't part of the plan," before turning to leave the room, a look of devastation clearly etched onto his face, despite his efforts to remain impassive.

I laugh loudly, partially out of sheer awkwardness, but mostly out of relief that the whole situation went better than I could have ever imagined. Clove, she would be dealt with, but overall, the kiss was amazing. I can't wait for more.

Katniss suddenly whips her head around, her braid flying behind her, and focuses her harsh glare on me…the glare I haven't seen since our first talk on the roof after I beat her boy-toy up. Stunned, I back up a little knowing that I don't want to face her wrath. Clove and the other girls watch in anticipation, clearly as confused as I was.

I seem to be spending a lot of time confused lately. Definitely a weird feeling since I came into the Games knowing what needed to be done to survive and win. Now…not so sure what the fuck my life is coming to.

"You planned this, didn't you?" she scowls, her voice low and laced with malice. "You knew Peeta would watch and would be upset by the kiss. You knew he would eventually storm off, thus not only hurting him personally, but damaging my alliance with him as well."

"Wait…what?" I stammer out, completely lost for words. I just wanted to kiss the girl of my dreams, I didn't know there was something wrong with that. No other ramifications for my actions were ever thought of in the five minute span this all occurred during. It was definitely a bonus to piss Bread Boy off, though.

"You're disgusting, Cato. I thought you were different." Before I can get a word in, Katniss storms off, presumably to chase her crybaby partner and make amends.

"What the fuck just happened?" I ask, turning towards my girls.

Leyla shrugs confused as well, Clove frowns, and Rue sighs.

"I think she's just bewildered at the whole situation and needs time. On one side, she likes hanging out with you, but on the other, she knows she needs to win the Games to get back to her sister…which means you die and so does everyone else," Rue infers wisely, jumping back when I loudly interject that we don't have time for her to be confused.

"Calm down, Cato-"

"I AM CALM, DAMNIT!" I roar at Clove, suddenly overcome with anger. Why was this fucking baker kid always messing everything up? First, he tries to steal _my_ Girl-Entourage, and now he's going for my actual girl. They are _my_ friends and _my_ future girlfriend, and he needs to take his fat doughy hands and back the fuck off.

Not even bothering to wait for their response, I storm out of the room and head towards the staircase by the side of the elevator. As I get closer to the doors, I shove the District 5 tribute down because he keeps staring at me with his mouth open like a fish. Fucking freak needed to mind his own business.

Taking the steps two at a time, I soon find myself in the District 2 apartment at a loss for what to do. Without warning, images of Katniss confronting Bread Douche swarm in my brain, forming a story I was not ready to handle.

She was probably sitting on the roof with him right now, awkwardly patting him on the knee and assuring him that he was still the man of her dreams. He was most likely shedding a few tears for the added pity, and she was telling him he was perfect, and they could win together and go home to District 12, richer than they could ever have imagined. All their problems would be solved. Hoo-fucking-ray for District 12. He was going to nod his head in agreement, totally wrapped up in her speech, and before he knows it, she's sitting on his lap, pressing her soft, warm lips into his nasty, bready ones. He's stealing the kisses that belong only to be. Flecks of red dot my vision, and I feel what little control I have beginning to slip.

The brown vase on the table next to me taunts me with its color; the exact same color as Katniss's long, flowing braid. In a blink of an eye, the vase bursts into pieces, clearly not prepared to connect fiercely against the wall across the room. The sensation is contagious, the relief of getting my anger out, and I search for more things to demolish.

Glass coasters become flying discs as they zoom towards the high speed ceiling fan, easily breaking into an array of pieces that subsequently spread across the apartment. Ignoring the shards that flitter against my skin, I keep tossing a few more until I get bored. There's not enough destruction in the little coasters to satisfy my hunger.

Making my way to the dining room, I delight in the crackle of glass underneath my boots. In the dining room, I find perfectly sculpted ceramic plates that make for even better "ceiling fan grenades" as I start to refer to them in my head as. Unfortunately, the fan stops spinning, hanging precariously from the ceiling by several weak looking wires. Inspired by this turn of events, I look around the room for something to bring the fan crashing down onto the glass coffee table. I make my way into the kitchen, which is surprisingly empty, though it looks like it is recently abandoned. A pot on the stove is overflowing, and I smell something burning in the oven. Not giving a fuck that the whole place may set on fire at any second due to the neglected meal, I raid one of the drawers to find a variety of knives. Concluding they're perfect to practice my aim with, I leave the kitchen and find a suitable spot in the dining room to challenge my skills.

Taking a deep breath to regain my focus, I grasp the knife in my right hand and settle myself into position to throw them. Some of the knives spin, others fly straight like darts, but each knife hits its mark, and I rejoice is the crash of the fan onto the coffee table. The crash is glass on glass, a brilliant sound of wholesome destruction. It's beautiful.

My bliss is broken by the sound of the elevator dinging, and an array of voices pilfers the calm of the room.

"OH MY GOD," a voice shrieks, and I recognize it as Adara. None of them can see me from my spot in the dining room, but I don't even bother to flee. I'm certain they already know what happened. My temper isn't something that was a secret, especially at the Academy.

"Please tell me the Capitol is just testing their hurricanes in our apartment before they apply it to the Arena…there's no way Cato could have destroyed so much in such a short period of time…right?" Leyla questions, clearly scared. Poor girl probably had no idea the short fuse she was dealing with on a consistent basis.

"Cato, come out from your hiding spot, you foolish child," a different, rougher voice commands, and I tense slightly. I was hoping she didn't come with the others, but I'm sure the Avox working in the kitchen alerted my mentor instantly when they overheard my destruction.

Knowing I couldn't hide in the dining room undetected forever, I sigh and make my way towards the group. They're still standing by the elevator, unsure of where it was safe to stand without getting glass in their shoes. They were also at a safe distance from me; the ever-ticking bomb they weren't sure had fully exploded. Could I be saving more of my rage for them? I knew my anger had nothing to do with them, but they still doubted my control.

"Yes?" I question rudely, directing my attention towards Enobaria. I begin to feel embarrassed by my actions when I see how upset Leyla is. The ginger Avox, whose name I still haven't learned, stands behind the group, emotionless. Clove has her mask of indifference on, the one she normally wears at the Academy when we are around other people she didn't like. I had a feeling, at the current moment that I was the one she didn't like.

"Explain yourself, boy."

I remain silent, knowing I didn't owe her anything. Sure, she could just refuse to make deals with sponsors, but I know she won't. She may favor Clove, but mentoring a winner makes her look almost as good as the Victor themselves. Enobaria has too much pride to kill me off.

"Explain yourself, now, or I'll force you both to clean this mess up," she growls, the gold tips of her fangs glinting in the sunlight from the open window. I regret that I didn't shatter the window when I had the chance. Maybe the glass would impale one of the Capitol freaks on the ground below. I smirk at the image.

"He kissed his girlfriend, and she didn't like it," Clove sneers, interrupting my thoughts. I wince, knowing this was not an issue I desired discussing with Enobaria. She had even less sensitivity than I did.

"Is this true, Cato?" she purrs dangerously.

"I hope it's not that District 12 girl!" Adara scolds. "I know a romance with her would be great for publicity around the Capitol, the Monstrous Boy from 2 and his Fiery Flower from 12 and all, but I couldn't imagine the shame when you got home."

Clove laughs wickedly. "Imagine the shame, Cato," she spits before making her way to her bedroom. I should have destroyed everything in her room too. That would have shut her up. So many regrets today…

Enobaria tries to say something, but I cut her off before she can even begin.

"I don't give a damn how you think I should play these games," I snarl at both of them. "I will do what I want, when I want, and you all can fucking deal with it."

I turn on my heel and leave the room. Leyla follows behind me, though more tepid than she ordinarily would. I make a note to apologize to her when I calm down.

"Manners!" Adara screeches from behind me.

"YOU CAN GO FUCK YOUR MANNERS," I yell back, completely over everything. God and I still had a few more days of this bullshit before I'd be happily situated in the Arena.

"I'm going to take a nap," I state before Leyla can get a word in once the bedroom door closes. "I'm sorry you have to clean up the mess I made."

She snorts. "They want me to make sure you don't kill yourself or anyone else before the Games. Someone else will clean it up."

"Oh, well, that's good, I suppose," I answer awkwardly, unsure of how to act around her now. I didn't want to frighten her anymore than I evidently have.

"Yeah, I suppose..." She shifts uneasily in her chair, and I feel another pang of remorse. I was making a fucking disaster out of everything today.

"Stop," I suddenly growl, causing her to shrink back a little from her place on the chair. "Don't be weird around me. Look, I'm truly sorry I had a freak-out. I do it sometimes, Clove calls them rage tantrums. It's not something I'm proud of, but I want you to know that I'll never hurt you. Ever, no matter how mad I am, I will never lay a hand on you. Or throw something at you. I'm not -" I break off, unsure if I want to go there or not. I know I owe it to Leyla, though.

"I'm not like my father," I finish, unable to meet her eyes.

"Oh, Cato, darling. I know you won't hurt me. I trust you, believe me I do," she whispers. "I just wanted to give you some time to calm down. I know I can be a lot to handle, and I didn't want to set you off again."

"Okay, good, I just had to make sure," I answer, never really good with the whole apologizing thing. Totally not my style.

"Come here you big softie," she giggles as she opens her arms. Refusing to settle for a normal hug, I pick her up and give her a strong bear hug.

"Oh my god, Cato, my ribs. Have mercy!"

I laugh lightly but ease the grip I have around her.

"Nap time?" I yawn, exhausted from the long day.

"Yeah, we'll get some shut eye before dinner," she agrees.

I snuggle under the covers, pulling her closer to my chest. My last thought before falling asleep is that I wish it were Katniss cuddling against me.

* * *

"Wake up sleepy head," Leyla singsongs as she jumps around the bed, coming awfully close my face. I sit up instantly in fear that she may accidently jump on my face and crush my nose, leaving me ugly forever. What a nightmare that would be!

"I'm up, I'm up, you can stop now," I moan, trying to shake myself awake. Having a thirteen year old jumping around your bed was not an ideal wakeup call.

"Why is Clove mad at me?" I ask, remembering the events of the day. She normally just laughs at my rage tantrums, calling me names and egging me on before helping me calm down. Clove was definitely acting weird lately.

"She's not really mad …more annoyed that Peeta was so upset that you and Katniss kissed," Leyla reveals, sitting cross-legged on my bed. "Don't tell her I told you, though, she'd murder me."

"Wait a minute…she has a crush on Bread Douche?" I question, wondering how in the fuck that could happen. As far as I knew, she hadn't really crushed on anyone at the Academy. Maybe me, for a bit in the beginning, but at this point, I was positive her actions were all just Semi-Sibling Protectiveness. "I don't get why everyone is acting like this kid is the greatest gift to mankind. It's like he shits rainbows and everyone wants a piece."

"Ew, Cato, you think some seriously gross things," Leyla whines, pretending to vomit.

"You should hear the ways I think of killing him. Then you'd be really creeped out," I laugh, only semi-jokingly. She didn't need to know that, though. Some thoughts are meant to be kept a secret.

"You know…she'll never forgive you if you kill him," Leyla begins, suddenly serious. "I don't think she loves him or anything, but she's attached to him. He's the only thing she has from home here."

"She won't need anything from 12 once we're Victors. She'll have me," I retort automatically.

The idea that I wouldn't be the one to kill him was extremely displeasing. I mean, yeah watching him die would suffice, but I'd prefer to do it myself. Show my dominance and superiority once and for all. Having him realize that "his" girl would be forever mine and there was nothing he could do to stop it…I shiver at the idea. Nothing would ever be as perfect as that moment. I had to be the one to do it.

"Yeah, okay, babe. Stop deluding yourself. There's no way they'll allow two Victors…"

"I always get my way, sweets. I don't know how it'll work, but I know it will. You just gotta have faith."

"I think you'll need more than faith, but alright," she sighs, knowing there was no use arguing with me. "Go to dinner, make amends with Clove, and I'll work on a plan to fix this since you're hopeless."

"Hey!" I exclaim. "This one was definitely her overreacting."

"Possibly, but even so, you aren't one to talk about overreacting," Leyla trails off, looking towards the door, where I know outside lays the huge mess I created. Whoops.

"Touché."

Before I can stop myself, I begin to think over Leyla's words. Yeah, sure, even I knew it was unlikely that Snow would allow both Katniss and I to be Victors if we were the last two remaining, but even if we were, why would she decide to be with me? I'm sure she was popular at home and had many guys lined up to marry her if she made it back to District 12. Why in the fuck would Katniss Everdeen choose a guy like me? I have nothing to offer besides my good looks, and I knew she wanted more than that in a man. I have no skills, besides killing (and I didn't think she'd count that, despite how proficient I may be). I wasn't very personable, not like her precious Bread Boy. Yeah, we would be set financially for life, but I doubted she'd want my company. I am worthless to her... nothing more than an object that once held promise and purpose, now forever a piece of trash.

"What?" she asks, taking note of my distant expression.

"I think… I think maybe I should just let it go," I mutter dejectedly. "You're right. I'm hopeless. The whole situation is hopeless. Even if we won together, what would make her stay with me? I have nothing to offer her but protection in the Arena, and once we're outside of that, I'm useless. Killing is the only thing I know how to do, but I'm fairly certain that's a useless skill after the Games are over."

"Cato,-"

"No Leyla, I give up."

_When people all stare  
I'll pretend that I don't hear them talk  
Whenever I see you I'll swallow my pride and bite my tongue  
Pretend I'm okay with it all  
Act like there's nothing wrong_

* * *

**A/N: Poor Cato, nothing is going his way at all! **

**Next few chapters:**

**The "Girl-Entourage" teams up for a potential Kato-vention (clever name, aye?) **

**Interviews**

**Whatever else I randomly come up with, which seems to be how I write most of these chapters...or how they write themselves I should say.**

**Thank you for the support! Kisses all around. The song at the bottom is Kelly Clarkson's, "Cry". Obsessed with it thanks to Glee haha. **


	10. A Katovention

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to write, it took me a lot more time to figure out then I thought it would! I would like to dedicate most of this chapter to **EMx2**. I'll talk more about it in the end Author's Note so I don't spoil anything, but this chapter is kind of dedicated to an issue I haven't really addressed yet. Please take the time to review this one, I would like to know your thoughts on it even if you aren't 100% sure you agree. Meep, read and enjoy!

* * *

Apparently, my current sentiments didn't sit well with my little Avox who immediately jumped up from her position on the bed.

"Cato, shut the fuck up. You're being a little bitch," she yells, jabbing her finger into my chest and forcing me to back into the wall. Shocked, once again by her language, I listen to her rant without interruption. "Yeah, you both might die soon. Someone else might kill her or you may die in a freak accident. You never know. But don't you want to spend your last week with the girl of your dreams?"

I sigh, slightly annoyed that she isn't getting the point.

"Yes, of course I want to be with her. But she doesn't want me. I'm nothing to her, not when she can have Bread Douche."

"But maybe she wants you and not him," Leyla suggests, dropping her finger down to her side, but refusing to back up enough to allow me to move away from the wall.

"Leyla, Katniss Everdeen made it clear today what she thinks of me, and it isn't what I would call 'boyfriend material,'" I say firmly, standing to my fullest height so I can stare her down. My jaw is clenched, and I'm sure I look fierce, but she didn't move in the slightest. If I can't intimidate a thirteen year old, how was I going to survive an eighteen-year-old giant like Thresh?

"She was just hurt because she thought you were just using her in your feud with Peeta," Leyla explains, finally moving away from me so I can sit back on the bed. She plops down next to me at the foot of the bed and looks expectantly at me.

I raise an eyebrow in question, wondering how she knew such info. I was starting to go back to my original idea that all girls were mind readers or had some secret girl code us male specimens didn't know about. Oh god, that would be terrifying.

"When you left, Rue and I followed her onto the roof and talked a bit before I got a page that you were on a rampage," Leyla clarifies while giving me a stern look that essentially said she wasn't impressed with my behavior. Oops.

"What else did she say?" I ask sheepishly, somewhat humiliated by my outburst. It did help me release all my anger though so it couldn't have been too bad of an idea, right? And it's certainly not like the Capitol can't afford to replace all the stuff I broke. It was the least they could do considering the fact they were attempting to condemn me to death.

"Not much really. I gathered that she's not used to boys paying attention to her in any sort of way besides her best friend, and the fact that both you and Peeta have shown interest is a bizarre concept to her. She thinks you're all doing it to give yourself an advantage in the Games. Katniss seems to be a suspicious person by nature," Leyla finishes explaining, but I can't help feeling skeptical. There's no way Katniss revealed all this to the girl whom I was clearly close with. Of course, Katniss didn't know how much of a gossip the little Avox was, but still.

"She told you all this?" I inquire, doubt dripping from my voice.

Leyla chuckles lightly. "Well, not really. Rue did most of the talking while I blended in to the background, and then I kind of put my own two cents into the analysis on her behavior, but that's the gist."

"So, do you think I have a chance?" I ask tentatively, my hopes starting to rise. I knew it was stupid, but this talk was starting to make me feel better. I guess I never really looked at the whole situation from her point of view. I suppose I'd be total suspicious if some chick started to flirt with me all awkwardly, especially if she was my number one enemy in the Games (despite how gorgeous she was). Katniss Everdeen was starting to make more sense now…well, kind of. Girls, on average, were still a huge mystery to me, but I was making some headway now.

"Yeah, Cato, I really think you do," Leyla sighs wistfully, probably lost in one of her weird dreams about attractive boys on stallions, female damsels in distress locked in towers, and castles filled with lots of chocolate. I find myself taken aback, unsure of where that particular dream sequence came from. It must have been from one of the storybooks my sister made me read to her because my own personal fantasies were a tad more violent. With a lot of blood. And a dead baker's son who I stabbed brutally to death with my favorite sword from back home. My daydreams were more realistic and the stuff storybooks should be made from. Obviously.

"You're a good guy," she continues, snapping me out of my peculiar thoughts. These fucking Games were doing weird things to my brain, and they hadn't even started yet. I could only hope that time in the Arena would clear my thoughts. "I know you don't see it, but despite your creepy awkwardness and random violent tendencies, you're kind, caring, smart, good-looking (which I'll never say again), funny, and any girl would be lucky to have you. Katniss will see that, just like Clove, Rue, and I have. And if not…you could always kill her." Leyla chuckles at her last statement, and I toss a pillow at her face, which she easily catches. I knew one thing. No matter what happened, I would never be able to kill Katniss Everdeen.

"Thanks…I think?" I respond, mulling over the next plan of action in my head. If I were to be honest with myself, I have no idea what to do next but I suppose I could pretend as if I did. It'd be nice to think the girls believed I was somewhat capable in the love department.

Ha, who was I kidding? Even I didn't believe it.

"Oh, and she thinks you're hott," Leyla smirks matter-of-factly, but I can't help but scoff.

"There's no way she told you that," I grumble, wishing of course that it were true.

"Well…Rue commented that you were the most attractive tribute, and Katniss just got this dreamy smile on her face and didn't say much," Leyla snickers. "She must be blind, though, if she thinks that."

"I don't know, Leyla," I begin, deciding it was prudent to reveal my latest fear all while ignoring the latest jab at my ridiculously good looks Bitches were just jealous. For a guy who prides himself on being fearless, I was starting to realize I'm most likely lying to myself. "I feel like I don't have enough time to even convince her to like me as a friend, let alone as a romantic interest."

Before Leyla can reply, the door crashes into the wall behind it, and a very pissed looking Clove storms in.

"CATO ALEXANDER HOLLAND, WHAT IN THE FLYING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" she roars and I instinctively shrink back, covering my ears with my hands. Well fuck, I wasn't even aware that she knew my middle name. No one has ever used it when addressing me, ever, but I knew sometimes that the middle name was brought out when a person was beyond enraged. I didn't like enraged Clove. She was terrifying enough, as it is when she was calm.

Oh God, what did I do? I quickly go over all the things I could have done to piss her off and came up blank. I didn't throw bugs in her wardrobe like that one time at school. I didn't tell Fugly Baker Boy that she had a crush on his revolting face. And I definitely haven't been able to sabotage her chance at sponsors by telling everyone she sometimes sucks her thumb at night and cries with her teddy bear while watching the sappy romantic "reality" shows that the Capitol airs on TV each week. Therefore, I went with the best answer I could think of and my "go-to" answer in times of crisis.

"Uh, I d-don't know…everything is wrong with me?" I stammer, cringing at my own weakness. I am such a pussy.

"What is this shit about giving up? Are you fucking serious? Please tell me this is a joke?" she continues to yell as she comes closer to me, and I scoot back on the bed. Once again finding myself pressed against a wall today, I begin to wonder if this is the end. Clove has always been one who can control her emotions well, but even when she blows a gasket, the rage was never directed at me. I silently pray she didn't have one of her knives stashed on her person, though I'd probably be more surprised if she didn't.

"How do you-" I begin, despite the fierceness of her glare.

I don't finish my sentence before I realize what must have occurred. Leyla must have paged Clove's Avox at some point when I wasn't looking. Sneaky bitches, always plotting and planning behind my back. I can't bring myself to be mad, though, considering the fact that they are just trying to help me…in their own weird, twisted way. It was somewhat sweet.

"I sent that page like ten minutes ago," Leyla huffs, looking annoyed. She actually yelps when Clove directs her ferocious glare at her. "Oh well, no matter, you're here now, and that's what counts…"

Clove twists to face me again, scowl still planted firmly on her face. She is now officially the most intimidating tribute in the Games this year, at least in my book.

"You don't give up. It's not in your blood. So fucking stop this emo shit you've got going on, grow some balls, and tell her how you fucking feel before I go up there and do it myself," Clove directs roughly, and I feel the need to comply with her demands just so she stops acting so scary. I've never seen her like this, and it's at this point that I truly believe she could win the Games completely on her own without any help from me, sponsors, or other tributes. When she was determined, things fucking got done.

Clove and I rarely talked about each other's death, or even our own for that matter. It was obviously going to happen, but we didn't want to think about how it would occur. The day before Reaping Day, we were both sitting in our room at the Academy when she brought it up.

* * *

_"Cato?" Clove asks, and I look up from my textbook, surprised by the hesitation in her voice. Clove was never one to be shy about asking me questions…and she asked me some awkward questions. I shudder briefly when I think about our conversation on masturbation. Fucking awkward moments to the max._

_"Yeah?" I put the book down, marking my page by folding a section of the page over. I had a feeling this was going to be one of our more "serious" talks. I just hoped it wasn't an uncomfortable topic like sex or pregnancy. I'd force her to see the Academy guidance counselor if need be so I didn't have to explain anything._

_"Do you ever think about life after the Games?" she whispers, and I strain to hear her. It's as if she was scared that someone would overhear us. Perhaps Clove didn't want anyone else to hear her sounding weak. Or maybe she was going to tell me some deep, dark secret she hadn't told me over the years. Or maybe she had decided to live her years after becoming Victor as a prostitute to the Capitol citizens. I stop my analysis of her behavior and conclude that there is no explanation needed because Clove just does whatever the fuck she wants. Way less thinking to do if I accept this answer as the complete and utter truth._

_"Of course, Clove, don't you?" I say as I begin to dream of all the ways my life will be better after I become Victor. "I think about how nice it is to be financially stable and to be able to buy whatever I want, whenever I want. There will be no one telling me what to do, when to do it, or how I should live my life. I think of how people will finally treat me like the celebrity I was born to be, and I will eventually get to bestow my wisdom on other tributes. It's going to be great."_

_"Yeah, I think of that, too. But then I remember that you won't be there with me to enjoy it, and it doesn't seem so great anymore…"_

_She trails off, and I immediately feel guilty that I never thought of the post-Game life like that. Well, to be honest, I started to sometimes, but I then pushed those thoughts away because they hurt too much to think about._

_In District 2, you didn't get close to people. It was stupid, because if chosen to volunteer together, you'd be forced to either kill the other or watch them die. And even if you didn't volunteer at the same time as your "friend", then you had a large possibility of watching them die on TV while you sat in the comfort of your dorm room. There was too much emotional liability in friendship, so it was something the Academy frowned upon. Yes, it was encouraged to have allies, but we were told to keep our emotions out of it. I failed in this regard when it came to Clove. Epically._

_However, at the same time, I never expected Clove and I to be chosen to volunteer for the same Games. She was three years younger than I was, so why would we be Reaped together? It was a far-fetched idea, but the Academy must have decided to make an example out of us. "Don't become overly friendly with your classmates," they said. "Don't let emotions cloud your judgment," they said. What did we do? Everything they said we shouldn't. I'm sure they're hoping we are the final two. The big, monstrous boy from District 2 and the little girl who pretty much became his other sister before his own sister died. It would be the perfect lesson to all remaining students at the Academy. Can you kill your best friend in order to become Victor?_

_Despite what many of the other Districts think, we don't have an epic duel before each Reaping Day to decide who will volunteer. Granted, I wish we did after Clove was chosen, because despite her obvious talent, she would have happily taken second place in order to make sure we weren't going to go into the Arena together._

_Each year, a panel of judges looks over our progress at the Academy, and they chose who they think is the strongest and most likely to win. Naturally, the eighteen year olds are mostly selected to participate in the Games each year. They had not only earned the right with their hard work and dedication, but they were usually the strongest, smartest, largest, and most ready to win. This year, it was all but a guarantee that I would be selected. I am the best in my class, obviously, and no one ever won in a fight against me whether they were male or female. However, I was bewildered when they picked Clove to join me in the Arena; she was just fifteen and still growing (or so she likes to say), so why her?_

_At first, I was selfishly glad because I knew I had the most dedicated and loyal partner in all of District 2 at my side; she was my best friend and I understood she'd always have my back. We were a team. We could do this, together, like always…_

_Then, the realization came that if I won, which I was sure I would, I'd have nothing left anymore. No family, no friends, no girl to fight for. It was not something I could bring myself to think about until Clove asked me my feelings on it._

_"It's not something I think about really," I respond honestly, and I see the hurt flash in her eyes before she moves her head to the side to avoid looking at me. Oh god, I hope I didn't make her cry. I was not a person who had a way with words, and even Clove was occasionally hurt by my lack of tact as my sister used to call it._

_I stand up and walk awkwardly across the room, hoping my movement doesn't send her into some weird girly crying fit. I'm not an expert when it came to feelings and especially didn't know what to do when Clove of all people suddenly had them. Sitting down next to her, I use my pointer finger and thumb to turn her chin towards me. I hear a slight sniffle, and before I see the tears in her eyes, I know she is sincerely upset._

_"I don't think about it because it hurts too much, Clovey," I say softly, gently wiping a tear that fell onto her cheek. "I know they're making an example out of us, but I just can't help but pray that someone else finishes the other off so it isn't down to the two of us."_

_"I bet the Academy pays the Gamemakers off to make sure we're the final two," she laughs bitterly, and I can't help but agree. I wouldn't put it past them._

_"No matter what happens, Clove, you know I will never stab you in the back. Ever. We'll figure it all out as it happens, but just know that you can always count on me," I reply fiercely, and I know I've surprised her with the honesty in my voice._

_She nods in agreement, "And if we're the last two?"_

_"Then may the sexiest tribute win," I snicker, earning a small slap on the arm for my attempt to lighten the mood. I know she's amused though, because I can see the small smile straining on her lips._

_"You know, Cato," Clove begins after a moment of silence, "I always thought you would win when your time came."_

_I can't help but snort. "Yeah, that was before you realized you'd be tossed into the Arena with my gorgeous self."_

_"No, Cato, I still think you'll win," she responds firmly, rendering me confused. If I win, then she dies…_

_"What are you getting at, Clove?"_

_"HOW MUCH CLEARER CAN I BE, CATO?" she starts to yell before remembering we were still in our dorm room and didn't want to be overheard. She lowers her voice before continuing. "If we're the last two, I will make sure you are the one to go home."_

_I blink, dazed, unsure of what she is trying to tell me. I can't bring myself to ask again for fear of being yelled at, so I asked my questions in a different way. "So you're going to throw the whole Games and kill yourself? For me? Why?"_

_"I wouldn't say 'kill myself' exactly," Clove further explains. "I won't go down without the most glorious, epically dramatic final-two battle in history."_

_"That doesn't answer my last question, though," I point out._

_"Look, you know I hate emotion and all that shit as much as you do, but let me lay it down for you as simply as I can. You have something to fight for. I don't. Your victory proves something to your parents at the very least. It's not your fault Citali died, and they need to stop blaming you. You have the ability to avenge your sister's death, and if you play your cards right, your Victory can prove something to the whole of Panem. Teach them a lesson, Cato. You won't be a piece in their Games. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. My Victory is meaningless. Citali and you are the only friends I've ever had. One is already dead. If you die, I have nothing. No one. My parents can't be bothered to talk to me. Everyone else I've ever met thinks I'm weird, and to be honest, I don't like most of them either. You're all I have and you winning is all I can hope for now that we're going into the Arena together."_

_"I didn't realize you were so self sacrificing," I reply harshly, because it's too much to handle. But she knows this about me, so instead of getting mad, she laughs._

_"Yeah, well, me neither. I always assumed I'd be picked a year or two after you won so we wouldn't have to have this conversation. Do you accept my plan?"_

_"Do I ever have a choice when it comes to accepting your plans?"_

_"Nope."_

_I sigh. "I suppose I do. Love you, Clover."_

_"Love you more even though you're uglier," she giggles. "Cato?"_

_"Yeah?" I ask_

_"Promise me one more thing."_

_"What?"_

_"Let's give them hell."_

_I didn't need to know who "them" was in order to agree. My whole plan for these Games was to get revenge for my sister, and I was going to do it my way no matter what the cost. We both had nothing left to lose but each other, and it was apparent we didn't have each other very long._

* * *

I know I indulge myself when I think of all the things Katniss and I will do when we win together. It's a fantasy world I can live happily in, because I'm not as attached to her as I am to Clove. With Clove, there are no romantic feelings, but there is an indescribable bond between us that I can't even hope to have with Katniss in the short time we have. Clove means more to me than I ever thought could be possible. Pretending that we could both win together would end in heartbreak that I knew for sure. I wanted to be with Katniss and I understand our time is limited. It's the nature of the Games. But with Clove, it wasn't supposed to happen this way. I was supposed to win one year, and she was supposed to win the next. Back to back victories like Glimmer and Gloss from District 1 did in consecutive years; they were siblings, like Clove and I practically are.

Clove must have sensed the change in my thoughts

"You're thinking hard again. This is dangerous."

"It's not fair, Clove." I don't need to elaborate, because like the mind reader she is, she knows what I really mean.

"God, Cato, we went through this before we left," she sighs, giving me the same look my mother used to give me when I asked what I did to get punished. "Stop over thinking everything. Just fucking live while you can and be grateful for the memories we created when everything is over."

"But-"

"No buts. This isn't about us right now."

"BUT," I interject again, finally getting her to shut up so I could talk. This was something that had to be said. "How much of a fucking douche am I for fantasizing about a world where Katniss and I win together but not you and I? Don't you hate me? Fuck, if I were you, I'd hate me."

"Well, thankfully, I'm not you because I couldn't stand to be that ugly," she chuckles and I gasp in mock offense. How rude. "And no, I don't hate you because I live in a fantasy world where Peeta and I both win and you can't participate to begin with because you broke your leg falling off a net trying to impress Katniss again. It's a beautiful world I live in my dear." She sniggers lightly and I find myself smiling despite the seriousness of the situation.

"I don't get why you like him," I whine. This kid was a total tool. I mean, I could see her liking Thresh. He was strong and powerful, quiet and mysterious. I get why Clove could be attracted to him. But Bread Douche? Gross.

"It's nothing serious. Not like your obsession with your Kat girl, of course. He's just nice and sweet, and it's really nice to finally let myself feel these kinds of emotions since I don't have much time left."

"What are you going to do if I die?" I ask, deciding to let go the whole concept of her and Soon To Be Dead Bread Boy. We haven't talked about this scenario yet, but at this point, my usual confident self had taken quite the beating so it was a possibility that needed to be discussed.

"Depends, how did you die," she inquires, and I know she's picturing all the weird things that could happen to me in the Arena. We'd seen quite a few fucked up things over the years. Some dude who was favored to win drowned in a lake when a shark bit his legs off. How fucking likely was that?

"A tree fell on me," I decide, knowing her answer would be "torture them in a slow, painful death" if I declared that another tribute killed me.

"I'd obviously cut down all the trees in a fit of rage and despair," she begins ominously, and I find myself already laughing at the "serious" story she's cooked up in that twisted little mind of hers. "Then go on a rampage and set them ALL on fire. And then I'd go from there, kill people and shit. Ya know how it works."

She pauses, for dramatic effect, but it's broken by my fit of laughter. I easily picture her actually doing all of that and the Capitol citizens watching being like, "What duh fuck?"

"So what's the plan with the whole Katniss situation?" I ask, concluding it's time to make amends with my Fire Girl before she decided she hated me for good.

"I've got one!" Leyla announces cheerfully. She'd been silent through my entire exchange with Clove, but I can tell she was relieved to get "back to work." Teen girls and their love for match making. Sigh.

"I'm just another piece in your Games, Leyla," I joke, and she sniffs indignantly.

Clove doesn't give Leyla a chance to respond. "No, there's no need for some complicated bullshit on the rooftop or to wait until tomorrow to confess your undying love in front of everyone at lunch. This is what you're going to do, and you're going to do it now."

"Yes ma'am," I salute, ignoring her glare as I prepare myself for whatever plan Clove had concocted.

* * *

A/N 2: So, this chapter was a little bit more serious than I expected, but the next one will be more fun with Katniss/Cato interaction galore. At least Cato is back on track!

For those of you who may be a tad confused, the review that spawned this chapter was mostly this,

"Although i can't help but feel as though Catos' thoughts are confusing- he has spent years with Clove, having her as a little sister and sharing everything with each other, even relying on each other for years (sharing a room!). Though his only aim in the games is for him and Katniss to be the sole survivors together, Katniss a girls he has known for a few days- i know he has these ultra strong feeling for her, and i absolutely adore her character in your story... but what about Clove? why isn't he thinking about her fate in the games?"

-EMx2

And so while writing this chapter, I received this review and thought to myself, "Ya know. Good point." and so here comes this chapter!

Okay, too much thinking and explaining so I'm going to go be productive and then start ch 11.

Once again THANK YOU for all your comments/critiques/suggestions/overall support. It truly helps create this story (as seen with this chapter) and develop it into something deeper and more meaningful. I love you all, and to those still in school, good luck on your finals!


	11. The Mission

"Are you serious?" I ask Clove incredulously after she reveals her "plan" to me (though I use the term lightly). "There are so many flaws in this so called "plan" of yours that I'm pretty sure you're just pulling shit out of your ass at this point. Do you want to get me killed?"

Clove is still standing, having spent most of her time in my room pacing and telling me what to do, perhaps one of her favorite pastimes. Leyla is still situated at the foot of my bed, but her face is unreadable so I can't tell what she makes of Clove's pathetic excuse for a plan. I was curious to know what Leyla had come up with to get me back into Katniss's good graces, but I'm sure Clove wasn't going to give her the chance to speak. When it came down to it, Clove would not be deterred until her newest plot was fully enacted.

"Even if this was a plan I created ten seconds ago, it'd still be better than anything your dumb ass would come up with," she smirks, and I hate myself for silently agreeing with her.

"But, what if-" I begin, wanting to voice my doubts to her before I embark on her sure-to-fail plan. Might as well be prepared as I could get considering I probably wouldn't survive to tomorrow, but if I could prolong the inevitable, I might have a chance to escape assuming I could come up with something better.

"No what if's," Clove interjects immediately. "Just fucking do it or I'll tell Glimmer you have a huge, uncontrollable obsession with her." Her smirk grows wider as she finishes her threat, and I flinch unwillingly. Clove wasn't someone who threatened lightly; she always followed through. I risk calling her bluff though, just incase.

"My god Clove," I gasp in one-hundred percent, completely un-joking, horror. "You wouldn't dare."

She sniffs in her typical bratty way. "Want to try me, Cato?" she dares. I don't, but I'll never admit it.

I look to Leyla, hoping she'll be on my side and come to the rescue as she so often does. Leyla gives me an apologetic glance before turning to Clove.

"I think you're right," she comments, giving me a small frown when I glare at her, feeling betrayed. She was supposed to be Team Cato, not Team Clove. I was number one in her heart! Damn Clove and her weird feminine ways of making people fall for her. She must be a witch or something. Maybe in the Arena she could teach me a spell or two so we could get additional sponsors.

"When am I ever wrong?" Clove questions smugly, and I can't stop myself from picking one of the many examples that come to mind.

"There was that one time-"

Clove gives me such a menacing glare that I shut up instantly and try to make up for my apparent blunder.

"Just kidding, I was mistaken, that was an error I made. As usual. You're perfect," I compliment half-heartedly, and she gives me another smirk. Ugh, that smirk would be ripped right off her face when I came back to the apartment in a body bag, a clear sign that her latest scheme was garbage. Bah, why is it always me?

"Go," Clove directs roughly as she points to the door, and I turn to Leyla once more to give her my famous puppy dog eyes. They frequently used to work on my mom, and I effortlessly got whatever I wanted. Well, they fucking failed when she kicked me out of the house, but whatever. I found them useless after that (especially since I just intimidate most people by my gigantic size and sheer perfection), so they were a little rusty. I stuck my bottom lip for added effect, hoping she'd at least help me out a little bit. I mean, this was a damn suicide mission. I am too sexy to die this young, and it wouldn't even be on TV. So not a hero's death.

"Eh… maybe we're being a bit too blunt with this plan," Leyla suggests carefully, not wanting to upset Clove. "We could work out something more subtle so Cato doesn't have a heart attack. I could page her Avox and arrange a meeting or at least go upstairs with him? I mean, I'm not supposed to let him out of my sight, anyways..."

"He's perfectly capable of going up to the twelfth floor, _on his own_, and asking his little Fire Chick to be in an alliance with me and Rue," Clove barks, causing Leyla to shrink back and throw her hands up in surrender. "He'll come back unharmed so you don't need to worry your pretty little head over anything."

"I was just saying," she mumbles under her breathe, and I gently pat her shoulder in thanks.

"She's going to want Bread Loser in," I point out. "What am I supposed to do about that?"

Clove blushes a little the mention of the District 12 scum, and I want to rip my eyes out, while simultaneously stabbing a fork through my brain at the same time. Dramatic, possibly, but the protective brother in me, coupled with the hatred for this useless excuse for a boy, was raging inside my head. Clove blushing was weird to begin with, and the fact that my mortal enemy was the one she had a crush on was just something I can't handle. God, why couldn't she like Thresh? At least he was cool. He didn't talk so I have yet to find myself annoyed by him, as I was with the other tributes. They were all pathetic, but he seemed to be decent. And since I was feeling more complimentary than usual, he also had potential to be pretty badass. I would support that relationship completely. Maybe I should talk to Rue and find out if he has a girl back home? If not, I could totally play matchmaker like the girls were doing for me. I'd absolutely be much more successful at it because I'm fucking awesome and magical like that.

"Improvise," she commands calmly after getting her blush under control. "I mean, he'd be useful for sure, but I also don't want to have to deal with your jealous rage fits and worrying that you'll kill him the second you two are left alone."

"I resent that, dearest. I have more self control than you're giving me credit for," I huff, not bothering to argue further. I mean, she was right, as usual. I'll run my sword straight through his heart the second I could pin the murder on someone else. Shit, if we were in an Arena with mountains or large hills, I'd shove him down one as soon as I had the chance. Fucking loser didn't deserve to be in an alliance with me. There was no way he would get my protection, no matter how much I could tell Clove wanted me to offer it to him. If he was as remarkable as she seems to think he is, he could simply survive on his own.

"I think you should get going now," Leyla sighs, patting me on the shoulder like I had previously done to her. "I believe in you, Cato, you'll be fine," she smiles encouragingly.

"Yeah, Cato, just pretend like you're going into the Arena," Clove proposes, finally attempting to be helpful. She fails, because the first image I see is me thrusting a sword through Bread Douche's heart as he sleeps, and regrettably, I don't think this is what she had in mind.

"Jesus, Clove, at least I'm prepared for the Arena! This plan of yours is a whole cluster-fuck of things I don't know how to do," I exclaim as I slide off the bed to stand in front of the mirror.

"JUST GO BEFORE I CALL GLIMMER UP HERE," Clove shouts threateningly, apparently fed up with my efforts at stalling my fate. "I'm sure you'd be much better company than Marvel."

"Oh god, why?" I moan, trying to get the image of Glimmer trying to put moves on Marvel out of my head. They were both just so gross that it upset my stomach. Ew.

"Can I shower at least?" I ask when I realize all I did today was sweat. Somehow, I didn't think Katniss would find that sexy.

"NOW!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Hugs?"

Clove briefly weighs the options in her head before sighing and stepping into my outstretched arms. I give her my typical Cato-Bear-Hug, which causes her to giggle (Cato-hugs usually come with a few tickles here and there, if I'm feeling generous).

"Put me down, Cato!" she squeals right into my ear, and I wince in pain. I add "ability to deafen tributes with piercing shriek" to her list of qualities that could potentially help us in the Arena. "You're delaying, again, and I'll knee you if I need to."

I wince again, remembering one of the times in our wrestling matches where her knee went flying into my crotch. I stayed on the ground for an hour in pain, thankfully in the privacy of our dorm room.

"Alright, no need to get testy," I retort as I place her back on the ground with a pat on the head. I give Leyla a quick tickle-free hug before assessing my reflection in the mirror.

I'm as sexy as ever, still clad in my tight-fitting training uniform that I wasn't even going to bother to ask to change out of. Running my fingers through my hair to spike it up a bit (for it had fallen flat after a day's worth of training), I sniff one of the colognes on the dresser. Deciding the dark, musky one would suffice, I give myself a quick squirt of the scent to make sure I don't smell from all the exercising I did today.

"Here goes nothing," I say plainly, ignoring their final pep talks and encouraging words. Opening the door, I step out into the living room to find a group of Avox that I've never seen before are still cleaning up the mess I made in the apartment. Feeling guilty, I tap the nearest one on the shoulder. The girl jumps back in surprise, eyes wide in fear.

"Sorry," I grunt, using my right hand to gesture to the destruction. She nods hurriedly, eyes scanning the rest of the room in panic, and I suddenly remember the "rules" when dealing with Avox. I've certainly been ignoring these when it came to Leyla, but I guess my Avox was different from most of her peers. She wasn't here because she's a traitor of the Capitol, whereas most other Avox had committed some sort of rebellious act that the Capitol didn't approve of.

"You missed a spot right there, go clean it," I attempt as an apology to the girl, giving her a little wink at the end to show I wasn't just being a typical District 2 douche bag . She gives me a small smile in understanding and goes to sweep up a few ceramic pieces form one of the plates I broke. I smile to myself at the memory of how refreshing and satisfying it was to destroy the Capitol's furniture. Perhaps, if I won the Games, I could make it into some sort of therapeutic habit.

As I ride the elevator to the twelfth floor, I review the plan Clove set out for me.

"_Just go up there tonight and ask her to be in an alliance. If you want to confess your feelings for her, than do so, but that's up to you. Rue already told me what you promised her, and since you won your stupid net climbing challenge, we'll begin our alliance with her once we take care of District 1 and 4. Be careful, and don't reveal too much of our little conspiracy until you're sure that she's on board with everything. We don't want her to stab us in the back in the Arena or sell us out to District 1 before we get the chance to slaughter them."_

I plan to talk to Rue the next time I see her and go over a few things that she'll need to know to survive in the Arena. First and foremost, when you have a potentially diabolical tactic with someone else, you don't go and tell their best friend about it despite how much the other person seems to trust them. I'm actually shocked Clove didn't massacre me for not telling her about my promise to the little District 11 girl, but maybe she thinks Rue would be useful, too.

The little bell dings and I briefly wonder why the Gamemakers allow security to be so lax when it comes to the apartments. Tributes could easily sneak into the elevator, ride to another floor, and murder another tribute before sneaking back to their floor as if nothing had happened. Maybe they didn't think anyone had the balls to do it? Or they were hoping someone would in order to make the Games more exciting? Either way, I'm glad it was easy to sneak around at night.

I step out of the elevator and into the District 12 penthouse apartment. The room is dark, but the gentle light emitting from the TV allows me to see most of their living room. I can tell their set up is different from ours, and I'm a little irritated by how much grander their place is compared to the District 2 apartment. Maybe the Capitol felt bad that their tributes lived in poverty for their entire lives until this moment and tried to make up for it. Not that any of this really mattered since most of their tributes died in the first day of each Game, but wasn't it the thought that counts?

"Come to try and kill me again? You must be really bored, but I suppose we can have another go at it since you failed last time," a voice says from an armchair on the side of the room, and I manage to keep my face in a stoic mask despite my surprise. I expected the place to be empty, but low and behold, I run into the last person I wanted to see. Fuck my life. If I made it back, I was going to give Clove a very unhappy lecture on how important it was to think through the flaws of all future endeavors.

"Not everything is about you, 12," I spit in disgust to Bread Douche, who I still couldn't see. Who the fuck was this kid to challenge me? I feel my temper rising and know that I can't spend too much time with this loser or something unpleasant was going to happen. Well, if I was to be honest with myself, his death wouldn't be that unpleasant but dealing with Clove, Leyla, and all his other fan club members would be annoying.

He rises from his seat and steadily walks towards me. I lean on the wall next to the elevator, my back pressed firmly against the metal and cross my arms. I glare at him as he walks even closer, and he finally stops about two feet from me.

Bread Douche attempts to stare me down and I stare back defiantly. Was he seriously trying to intimidate me? I tower over him by at least seven inches, and my arm muscles are like the size of his head. I can tell he's strong too, his muscles rippling in anticipation under his t-shirt, but there was no way he could ever take me down in a fight. "What are you doing here, then? Katniss doesn't want to talk to you," he finally growls, still not breaking eye contact.

"I'm positive that she doesn't like you speaking for her," I retort, knowing it was true. Last time he attempted to talk for her, she twitched slightly while her face remained impassive. It had been kinda cute. "And I'm sure you're just scared that she'll fall for me and leave your ass alone in the Arena. You'll be so easy to pick off, I can barely contain my excitement."

He actually has the nerve to snort at my statement, and I find myself fighting the urge to punch him in the jaw. The things I do for the women in my life, and yet they were so ungrateful.

"You seem to be awfully sure of yourself, 2," he chuckles darkly, eyeing me up and down as if I was his prey. I'm starting to think he doesn't like me very much. How upsetting.

At this point, I find myself in a dilemma. One punch to the head, and I could scoot around the unconscious body of my enemy to go find Katniss's room. Although their apartment was larger and decorated more superiorly than mine was, I still had an idea of where Katniss's room was. However, her District partner had positioned his body in front of mine so I can't just maneuver around him to get to my destination. Disappointingly, knocking him out wouldn't give me any brownie points with Katniss. So I decide to do what my mother taught me and ask nicely for him to move.

"I'm _sure_ I'm going to fucking murder you if you don't relocate your malformed body out of my way so I can find Katniss."

"Do I sense a challenge, 2?" he questions, and I mentally snort in amusement. This fucking idiot was trying to pick a fight with me. I was pleased that his balls seemed to have finally dropped now that no one was around to see his true behavior, so I decide to play along with his game.

"Perhaps you do, do you dare to see?" I retort, moving away from the wall and closer to the shorter boy. Arms still crossed, I finally take the opportunity to flex my muscles and puff my chest out in preparation for a brawl, knowing that the other boy won't call me a tool like the girls did. His eyes rake over my defensive stance, and I see his eyes briefly flicker in fear before he returns to his calm facade.

"I love a challenge," he all but purrs at me. I find myself slightly distracted by this conclusion. Was he flirting with me? Or just trying to intimidate me?

Noticing my preoccupation, the younger boy lunges at me, tackling me to the ground and pinning me under him. He punches me in the mouth, before I gather myself back together, and use my greater strength to flip him over.

"Big mistake, 12," I snarl, primed to beat him to a bloody pulp. I take a second to savor the feeling of him under me as he struggles to gain the upper hand again, and I bask in the glory of my dominance. If only we were in the Arena, I could play with my prey a bit more and then watch gleefully as his life ends by my own hand. I slowly pull my fist back as far as I can, before letting go and sending a vicious blow to his jaw. He grunts under me just as I hear the unmistakable sound of a door opening down the hall.

"Fuck," I mutter, before jumping off the boy. Grabbing his arm, I roughly pull him off the ground, glancing over at him to make sure he isn't bleeding, which thankfully he isn't. He gives me a confused look and I bring a finger to my lips, which are suspiciously damp, and signal him to be silent as I point in the direction of the bedrooms. He nods swiftly in understanding before reaching into his pocket and handing me a handkerchief and pointing to his own lip. Easily comprehending his gesture, I dab the cloth over my lip, relieved that it isn't gushing blood like I thought it was. Bread Douche stares at me before sighing and moves closer to me. I instinctively tense up, expecting him to try to get the last hit in, but he just smoothes out my training shirt that must have been ruffled in our fight.

I suppose we have some sort of unspoken truce for the time being. Neither of us wants to get caught in another scuffle and face the wrath of the Gamemakers. Or worse, our escorts.

"Paranoid much?" he whispers harshly, and I send him a hasty glare before the intruder to our fight reveals themselves. My features are schooled back into my blank mask by the time the District 12 Capitol escort enters the living room.

"Peeta, what's going on?" the woman asks in her thick Capitol accent as she looks at me wearily. I can't blame her though since the last time she saw me I was choking out her male tribute that's currently standing peacefully next to me. I'm sure she's waiting for me to pull a knife out and murder them all.

"Cato just came over to apologize for attacking me at the tribute parade," the baker replies coolly, and I wish I did have a knife stored on me. What the fuck, how embarrassing! I would rather die a million brutally painful deaths than apologize to him.

"That is so polite of you!" the pink haired woman chirps as she sticks her hand out. "My name is Effie, dear."

"Good evening miss, my name is Cato," I say charmingly as I shake her hand. I might not be able to woo girls my own age, but I have a certain knack with older women. "I'm sorry for coming by at such a late hour and disturbing you. I just need to talk to Katniss really quick, and then I'll be out of your way."

"Oh, of course deary, I'm sure Peeta will be hospitable and show you the way to her room. There's nothing we love more than manners!"

"That'd be great," I respond with a slight smile, mentally cringing at the lie. Of course I didn't mind lying, but I hated having to spend more time with the enemy than I absolutely possible.

"I can do that," he smiles kindly back at his escort but I see his jaw clench when she looks away. Ha, good, he didn't like spending time with me either. "It's this way."

"Goodnight, Effie," I purr, reaching down to take her hand and placing a gentle kiss on the top.

"Oh my, it was nice meeting you too, Cato," she squeaks, and I see out of the corner of my eye that she's fanning herself as we walk away. If only Katniss could have that reaction every time I talked to her…

Effie remains in the living room as we make our way down the long hallway of rooms. I patiently follow behind Bread Douche as he leads me down the dark hall and dab my lip with the handkerchief once more.

"We're here," he remarks coldly as we stop outside one of the dark brown doors.

"You knock first so I know you aren't setting me up," I demand suspiciously, noting that if we were in reversed positions, I'd leave him at Enobaria's door.

"And what if I say no?" he counters, and I feel a sense of déjà vu coming on again. If he wanted to get his ass kicked outside of Katniss's door, then I will happily oblige.

"You won't," I sneer as I move closer to the boy. He won't catch me off guard, not this time. My lip pulses in a painful reminder of how my lack of concentration can be detrimental.

"Yeah, says who?" he argues, moving even closer to me. We're practically nose to nose, and his breath stings my lip.

"Says me," I respond, roughly shoving him against the wall, cringing at the loud sound his body made in the quiet hallway.

"Peeta?" a voice from behind the door asks, and I freeze at the sound. It's Katniss, so I suppose he isn't as evil and smart as I made him out to be. He gives me a look that says, "I told you so," before answering her.

"Cato wants to talk to you."

She doesn't respond, but soon cracks open the door.

"Oh," she squeaks in response when she sees me. Pulling herself to her full height, she glances over to Peeta who has straightened himself up against the wall. "I thought you were joking."

"Nope, he's all yours. Call me if you need anything," Bread Douche responds before walking down to his own room, not even glancing at me as he passed.

"Thanks, Peeta," I call at his retreating back, smirking when he turns to give me a short, shocked looked.

" 'Welcome," he grumbles back as he opens the door to his room.

Finally alone with Katniss, I look awkwardly at her as I try to decide what to say. She opens the door a bit more before turning around and walking back into her room. Taking that as a signal that I can come in, I leisurely walk in to give myself time to pull back together. It's game time.

Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my mind and shake off the thoughts that I needed to go back and finish beating the shit out of her District partner. He clearly didn't respect me and that was something I'm not familiar with or could accept.

"What are you doing here? I don't want to talk to you," she bites out, pausing as her eyes scan my face. "Are you bleeding?"

"Your guard dog got me," I respond evenly after I lick some of the dried blood off my lip. "He hit on me." I laugh at my own joke.

Katniss shoots me a confused look before her eyes light up in understanding, and she lets out a low laugh. "You two seriously have some issues you need to work out."

Quickly glancing at my reflection in her mirror, I see that my lip is swollen but no longer bleeding. "I think we worked out a few things tonight," I answer calmly as I turn back to face her. She's not wearing her training clothes like I am, but instead a blue tank top and sweatpants. They look good on her, though I might be biased since I think she looks fantastic in everything.

"You still didn't answer my question," she points out, and I decide to answer her honestly.

"I wanted to apologize," I begin uncertainly, hoping this whole experience would go smoothly. So far, it was somewhat of a disaster, though I was thankful for the chance to fight Bread Loser again so soon. "When I laughed earlier after I won the net climbing race, it wasn't to make what's-his-face mad. I was just relieved that the whole kiss thing went smoothly, and you didn't decide to publicly humiliate me."

"Uh huh," she murmurs distractedly, catching me off guard. I pretty much admitted my biggest fear to her, and she barely blinked.

I eventually notice that instead of four white walls, she has all of them turned into a beautiful, lush forest panorama. She's staring unseeingly at the one behind me and clearly not paying attention to anything I say, lost in her own thoughts. Knowing that I require her complete attention, I take the risk and move to sit next to her on the bed.

Katniss stiffens as I sit down but doesn't shift away from me.

"I didn't mean to upset you," I try again, and this time she turns to focus on me. Encouraged, I continue. "I'm really just an awkward person, believe it or not."

She snorts at me declaration, and I find that I'm not annoyed by her snort like I was with her District partner. "Well, that's obvious, Cato. But why'd you come all the way up here to apologize to me at eleven at night? Couldn't it wait until morning?"

"Well, there's something else…" I pause, unsure, and she raises her eyebrow at me to go on. "Clove and I want to form an alliance with you."

It was important to tell her that Clove accepted the alliance. I didn't need her scared that'd she be gutted the second she fell asleep.

"You don't even know what I can do," Katniss argues, but I expected this from her. There was no way someone intelligent would readily accept an alliance with the sworn enemies without asking some questions first. Besides, she was right about me not knowing anything about her. I have no idea what talents she has besides being fucking beautiful, but my gut told me she had many other useful ones.

"I know you're fast," I counter, and she smirks because I basically just admitted that she beat me at the obstacle courses. Ah, well, at least no one was here to hear me admit I lost to a girl. "The Capitol already loves you, which will help us secure sponsors."

"You already have plenty of sponsors as a Career tribute even if you fuck up your interview. What about the alliance with Districts 1 and 4? There's no way you can create an alliance with like, half the Arena." I didn't anticipate for her to accept my invitation right away, but I'm flabbergasted by how many arguments she has against the idea. Clove told me not to reveal too much, but Katniss was practically demanding I spill everything to her.

"I'm not who you think I am," I start, wincing at how pathetic and cheesy it sounds. God damn, I was already fucking this up, and I had barely started. "What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room."

Katniss nods slowly, undoubtedly confused by how serious my tone had suddenly become.

"I hate Districts 1 and 4, with a burning passion of a thousand suns. Forgive my dramatics, but it's true. When I was fifteen, my sister volunteered to be the District 12 tribute at the age of twelve. Because she wasn't cleared by the Academy to volunteer, the Career alliance would not be allowed to include her. With the help of her ally, they killed the leader of the Career pack, and the tributes from Districts 1 and 4 tortured her to death for hours despite giving the District 7 kid a quick death…"

I trail off; choked by the images I couldn't keep away. My parents had let me attend the funeral, mostly to avoid the bad publicity that would come from shunning your only remaining child from his sister's funeral than out of kindness. I had demanded that one of the funeral attendants lift the top off the casket off so I could see my baby sister one last time. The funeral home workers had done their best to make her look recognizable since the Capitol refused (even they didn't like the idea of a tribute from a Career District volunteering without clearance from their schools) but the image still haunted me. The little girl in the casket was not the sister I wanted to remember.

"I remember her," Katniss says quietly. "Prim was devastated when she died."

I smile sadly at the younger girl next to me, not even slightly pleased that her little sister was a fan of my own sister. It really didn't matter since Citali was gone and would never come back.

"A lot of people loved her, especially Clove," I reply unemotionally, not allowing myself to fall apart now. I have a job to do, and I can't afford to fuck it up. "We can't forego an alliance with them since it's pretty much required of us. Clove and I plan to work with them through the initial Bloodbath, and then slay them as soon as we set up camp. And that's where you would come in."

Katniss looks at me expectantly, but I can see the sympathy in her eyes. I hate when people feel sorry for me because it makes me feel weak. Ignoring my irritation, I continue with my little speech. "Clove and I plan to rid ourselves of them, and then meet up with you and Rue somewhere else in the Arena."

I of course leave out the details of how brutal and bloody the deaths of Glimmer, Marvel, and the District 4 tributes will be. I couldn't protect Katniss from everything, that I knew, but there were some things I could keep hidden from her.

"Rue?" she questions, surprise evident in her voice.

"Could you kill Rue?" I contest, smiling when she shakes her head 'no'. "Exactly. And who would be a better spy than she would? Get her some night vision goggles, set her up in a tree, and we got eyes on every tribute in the Arena."

"I could definitely see that," she giggles before pausing and staring at me the wide eyes. I bite my lip, hoping she agrees to accept my alliance offer. I didn't want to think about what would happen if she said no. "One more thing. Why me, Cato?"

It's now or never.

"Because I care about you, I thought it was obvious," I attempt to joke, hoping to lighten the mood. It was awfully stuffy in here.

"It is, but I don't understand why."

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can get a word out, Katniss leans forward and places her delicate lips on my own.

* * *

A/N: Cato finally gets some lovin! About damn time, aye? This is officially the longest chapter I've ever written, so yay! All of your reviews from the last chapter inspired me to write this, and I just couldn't find a stopping place!

Poor Peeta though, he really just doesn't like our darling Cato.

Next chapter: Will Katniss accept the alliance? If so, what does that mean for Peeta?

I love all of your comments guys, they're amazingly helpful and inspiring so keep it up :)

I also went back and read the rest of the story up until this point and realized my tumblr link didn't show up. If any of you have one, my link kb928 . tumblr. com


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